What Mrs Mallard Said
by GataChica
Summary: After "Untouchable," Abby thinks about what Ducky's mother said, and comes to a decision. AU, primarily Ducky/Abby with a bit of Gabby changing to Jibbs.Rating is for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 1

Author: GataChica

Rating: M for later chapters

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

"_Did you know, that without those longshoreman tattoos, and that dog collar, you are the exact spitting image of my sister Gloria?" Mrs. Mallard asked._

"_Thank you," Abby replied, smiling._

"_I hated her! She once tried to sleep with my late husband while he was still alive!" _

"_Mother!" Ducky interjected as he strode into the lab. "I'm sure Abigail doesn't want to hear any more of our family troubles!"_

"_It's fine, Ducky, we're having a good time," reassured Abby._

_He handed her a container. "Brain tissue. I'm going to need a full rundown on –"_

"_Donald!" Mrs. Mallard interrupted. "Did you sleep with her?"_

_Abby turned to look at him, bemused. He appeared apologetic and even a little embarrassed. "Mother, please!"_

"_Honestly, it's about time I had some grandchildren." She turned to Abby, pointing her index finger for emphasis. "He's not getting any younger, you know. You need to move fast."_

Abby turned to Ducky again and found that he was looking expectantly at her. 'What does that expression mean? It's like he's waiting for me to answer. Is it possible –' She put that thought out of her mind, because it was way too unlikely for her to waste her time on.

Still, the question persisted the rest of the day, and when she saw Ducky again the tension was palpable.

* * *

The repeated ringing of his cell phone woke Gibbs from his uncomfortable position under the boat, and when he stretched to reach for it, he winced. The cold concrete floor was not friendly to a man of his age; his whole body ached, especially his knees.

"Gibbs."

"It's me," said Abby, sniffing. It was obvious she had been crying.

"What's wrong, Abbs?" He hoped it wasn't more boyfriend trouble.

"Can I come over, Gibbs? I need some advice."

"Sure," he replied automatically, even though he was nonplussed as to what was going on.

"I'll be there soon. Thanks, Gibbs."

"You're always welcome, Abby." He hung up the phone, hoping that when she arrived he would be able to understand her sometimes veering approach to explanations.

Twenty minutes later he heard the door open and close, followed by her voice calling "Gibbs?"

"Down here, Abbs."

Her footsteps on the basement stairs were slow and hesitant, and he wondered what could have happened to upset her so. He went to the bottom of the steps and waited, ready to wrap his arms around her and comfort her as always. She stepped down and almost threw herself against him.

For a few moments she sobbed against his shoulder, then she began to calm. Pulling her towards a chair, he sat down with her in his lap. "What is it, Abbs?" he asked, gently brushing stray hairs from her face.

"I don't know what to do, Gibbs."

"About what?"

"Ducky."

"Ducky?" He was surprised – Abby and Ducky had always worked well together and rarely had disagreements. "An argument?"

"No," she said with a note of desperation. "Just the opposite, really."

"What are you talking about, Abbs?" he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

Slowly, with many questions, he managed to piece together what had happened earlier with Ducky's mother, and gradually understanding dawned.

"You want to do it. What Mrs. Mallard said," Gibbs interrupted as she was babbling, attempting to identify her feelings about the situation.

She stopped talking and looked at him, her eyes wide. Slowly she nodded and whispered, "Yes. I want to have Ducky's baby."

Even though he had figured it out already, Gibbs' mind reeled from hearing her confirm it. It touched him somewhere deep inside – a place that he himself was not totally aware of, and certainly did not expect to find her there. "Abby –" he murmured, unable to look her in the eyes.

She looked worriedly at him, afraid that he was angry at her. "I'm sorry, Gibbs. I didn't mean to make trouble for you. I'll go now." She tried to stand, but he stopped her with a shake of his head and a hand on her shoulder.

He cleared his throat and finally answered. "Are you asking for my permission?"

She stared at him, unable to read his face. "Not really, I just want your advice. Is it a bad idea?"

"Shouldn't you be talking to Ducky rather than me?"

"I wanted to ask you first," she explained simply. "Do you think I should talk to him, or not?"

Once again he felt that deep pain, and it was getting harder to breathe. Was he having a heart attack? No, he realized, his body was reacting to Abby's words. He hated to hear her talking about another man, even if it was a close friend of his. He unconsciously considered her to be his already – sure, she had boyfriends but he knew it was never serious. He knew that one day he would tell her his true feelings, and she would reciprocate them. He had no doubt about it.

But what was this about? Was she choosing Ducky over him? What did it mean? He tried to put those questions out of his mind, and think objectively. His biggest concern was Ducky's age. He spoke quietly, "You realize, Abbs, that you can't be sure he'll live to see the child grow up. You would be left to raise it alone." He didn't mean to be brutal, but he had to bring it up since it was the harsh truth.

"I'm not afraid to be a single mother," she replied resolutely. "Besides, I don't think it would be that way."

"Why not?" he asked curiously.

She smiled a little. "I know how you feel, Gibbs."

Once again he stared, wondering how it was that she always _did_ know. "Well, enlighten me, then," he said, trying to sound nonchalant but betrayed by the catch in his voice.

"You're in love with me, Gibbs," she continued, stroking the silver hair at his temples. "And I'm in love with you."

Stunned, he didn't speak for several moments, trying to digest the confident statements she made. He couldn't disagree with her; she would know he was lying and he would look foolish. Instead he nodded.

"I knew it," she said matter-of-factly. "So now what do you think about it?"

"Are you asking how would I feel about raising Ducky's child, if needed?"

She stopped to think for a moment. "Yes."

He looked away and considered his options. This was obviously something she truly wanted, and what _he_ wanted most was her happiness.

He made his decision. "I would be okay with it, and if I did have any problems, I would work them out."

"Thank you, Gibbs. I really do love you." On impulse she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. After all the shocks he'd already had, there was no way he could stop her at this point. But he didn't really want to anyway. When they broke the kiss, he whispered against her ear, "I love you too, Abbs."


	2. Chapter 2

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 2

Author: GataChica

Rating: M for later chapters

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

* * *

They were all off the next day, having solved the case of the Pentagon mole the previous day. Abby woke up feeling excited, with tingly feelings in various parts of her body. She could barely contain herself as she ate breakfast, showered, and dressed – she felt she was coming out of her skin. But she managed to stay calm enough not to break anything or make a foolish mistake.

She tried to think about how to approach Ducky, but that was too much for her. It took all her concentration to focus on what she was doing and do it right.

Finally she was ready. She took a deep breath and picked up her cell phone, pressing Ducky's number on the speed dial.

"Mallard residence," he answered absently.

"Hi, Ducky, this is Abby!" She couldn't keep the enthusiasm out of her voice.

"Hello, my dear Abigail. How are you this morning?" Anyone else would have thought he was speaking smoothly, but Abby recognized a small hesitation after "Hello."

"I'm great. It's a nice day, isn't it? I looked outside and there were only a few clouds, so I think it will be warm today. The trees are starting to bloom everywhere and the blossoms are really beautiful. I –"

"As are you, my little lotus blossom."

Abby could hear the tenderness in his voice, and she blushed. "Thank you, Ducky, that's so sweet of you. Um –" she hesitated a moment. "Do you have plans for lunch?"

"Not yet."

"Would you like to have a picnic?" She held her breath, hoping he would say 'yes.' She didn't have to wait long.

"I'd love to have a picnic, Abby. Where and when?"

"How about Great Falls Park, Overlook 2?"

"That sounds wonderful. I'll meet you there at –" there was a pause while he checked the clock "—1 o'clock. Will that be all right?"

It was all she could do not to squeal with delight. "Definitely! Why don't we both bring food then we'll share?"

Ducky agreed and they hung up. Abby found that her heart was pounding in her chest. She had never realized – why hadn't she realized ? – that she felt this way about Ducky. She had put him into a special compartment in her mind labeled "Love like a family member." She had never allowed herself to think of him as a virile man who could inflame her desires. She felt as though someone had slapped her silly, and she had finally become completely conscious of the world around her.

And it was about time, too.

* * *

Abby spent three hours making decisions: what to wear, what kind of food to take, and so forth. Her mind was racing, in spite of many attempts to rein it in. Finally she was dressed, having chosen a vintage black mini swing dress with wide shoulder straps and a red petticoat. She put her hair up in a quick bun with ringlets hanging down. Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled. 'I look good,' she thought.

Next came the picnic basket….

Ducky was already waiting when she arrived at Overlook 2. He had found a spot for their picnic and had spread a large tartan blanket on the ground. He was sitting on a short stool unloading his cooler with his back to her, but turned at the sound of her car door.

"Ducky!" she cried, running up to him for a hug.

"My dear, you look absolutely stunning. What a lovely dress. Come over here and sit down beside me on the blanket." He gestured to the stool. "I'm afraid my old joints no longer allow me to sit on the ground."

She smiled at him as she sat down and spread her skirt out around her. "That's okay, Duckman. You're not really old unless you think you're old."

"Tell that to my knees."

Abby chuckled. "What did you bring? Mmm, it looks delicious."

"I didn't know if you had ever sampled traditional Scottish dishes, so I brought several." He took items out of the cooler as he named them. "Scotch eggs, salmon cakes, warm leek soup, and scones for dessert."

She looked at him, amused. "No haggis?"

"I brought some for myself but I didn't think you'd want it."

"Oh, I eat all sorts of things, Ducky. Never assume." She opened her picnic basket to take out her own food.

"What do you have, Abigail?" he asked curiously.

"I had the same idea as you did, so I took some food I brought back from home out of the freezer. It should be thawed by now." She picked up the first package. "Crawfish." She could see that he was interested. "Boudin. It's like haggis in a way. Here's a container of peas, and I have cornbread to go with them. I brought pecan pie for dessert." She looked expectantly at him.

He smiled and ran his hand down her arm. "By all means, let's begin!"

They talked of work and biochemistry and anatomy and the foibles of their co-workers, leisurely eating from the feast before them. Abby changed positions several times, eventually resting against Ducky with her legs out to the side.

"Wow," she said, leaning back. "That was great."

"Yes, indeed it was. But the food can't compare with the company." After that compliment, she felt it was time to bring up the purpose of the meal.

She threw her head back and rested it in his lap, looking at him upside down. "Ducky?"

"Yes, my dear?"

She could barely hear his voice, and it sounded a bit choked, so she sat up straight and turned towards him, alarmed. But the expression on his face was so full of love and longing that she didn't stop to answer. Instead, she leaned forward and brushed her lips across his. She started to pull back, but he took her face in his hands and kissed her again, this time more thoroughly. The kiss was passionate, although he didn't let her deepen it. When they finally broke apart her eyes were wide with surprise. "Ducky – why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought you might change your mind, and I didn't want you to feel any pressure."

"You knew? But how – wait, did Gibbs call you?"

He nodded, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Why did he do that?" she demanded, rising to her knees. "I didn't tell him to do that. He should have kept it secret."

"Dear Abigail, he only did it to protect you."

"Protect me? From you?"

"Yes, he was afraid you would be hurt if I turned you down harshly."

"Oh." She paused to think. "What did you say?"

"I said I had no intention of turning you down at all." This time he smiled fully. "If you were willing to take me as I am, I certainly would not turn down a woman as beautiful as you are, both inside and out."

His words warmed her heart, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face against him. "Ducky," she said fervently, "I love you."

He placed a finger under her chin, and raised her face to meet his. "There is no way I can tell you how much I love you, Abigail," he murmured.

"How long?"

"Years, my dear. But I never thought you would want someone as old as I am, not at your age." He stopped for a moment, then forced himself to ask the question that was foremost on his mind. "Abby, are you doing this just because of what my mother said? You do know that she is senile, correct? She may not even realize she has a grandchild."

Abby smiled. "I know, Ducky. She just put the idea in my head, and I realized that that was what I wanted."

He hesitated, then asked, "When, my love?"

"Uh…" she made a mental calculation. "If I stop taking the Pill today, then it will be about 6 weeks. Although we could try in 2 weeks," she added.

"What do I need to do?"

She stared at him, unsure whether or not he was serious. "Ducky, surely by now you know where babies come from?"

"Oh," he said, looking embarrassed. "I thought –"

"No, not at all," she replied, shaking her head. They both laughed, and he took her hands in his.

"I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty in that department."

"It'll come back to you, I'm sure," she said confidently.

He thought to himself that she was probably right; already he could feel the warmth spreading through his body and straight to his arousal. He hoped she couldn't tell… then realized that it didn't matter if she could. In fact, she would probably be happy.

Abby sat for a moment, watching the slight flush appear on his cheeks. She grasped his hands and pulled gently. "Come down here with me, Ducky," she encouraged, guiding him to lie down with her on the blanket.

He didn't resist, although he did protest. "Don't you think we are a little – um – exposed here, Abigail?"

She laughed. "We can just make out. No one will care about that. Unless you think you won't be able to resist me," she teased.

"It could happen," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Never mind." He embraced her tightly and kissed her, this time not waiting long before he ran his tongue along her lips, asking for entrance. With a little sound of delight, she gladly opened her lips to him and ecstatically he began to explore her mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

What Mrs. Mallard Said --3

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Ducky was on the verge of admitting that he might not, in fact, control himself when it came to Abby, and that they should either stop kissing or go to his home. But before he could speak, their cell phones began to ring.

Abby groaned. "Another case, right at the worst time," she complained. They answered the phones, moving away from each other so that their voices wouldn't be picked up on the other's call.

"Well, that's interesting," Abby said as she switched off. "A dead Navy lieutenant right here in the park!"

"Yes – I expect they will wonder how we arrived so quickly." Ducky smiled at the thought, since he loved intrigue.

"Gibbs will know."

"Yes, but I don't believe he will say anything to the others, do you? I think it will be fun to keep them guessing." The twinkle in his eyes made Abby want to hug him tightly, and she did.

"I think so too."

Both of them failed to remember that Abby was supposed to go to her lab; she usually wasn't allowed at crime scenes.

They swiftly packed up the picnic items, then they headed out in their respective cars to the crime scene. It wasn't too far from where they were, actually. Gibbs had already arrived, somehow, but the rest of the team were not there yet.

"Ducky! I didn't expect to see you so soon. Where is your van?"

"Hopefully Mr. Palmer will bring it, and I certainly hope he is familiar with the park roads."

Just then Abby drove up, and Gibbs stared first at her car, then at Ducky, and back again. "Is there a reason Abby is here?" he asked quietly, his voice hiding the turmoil he felt in his gut. "She doesn't belong at a crime scene, Duck."

Ducky's face began to flush – not much, but enough for Gibbs (who noticed everything) to know the answer to his question. He walked towards her car as she was getting out. When her dress came into full view, he stopped for a moment, glanced at Ducky reproachfully, then continued. "Hey! Abby! What do you think you're doing here?"

"Oh, um, Gibbs," she replied, casting about in her mind for a viable excuse. "I was close so I thought I'd check out the crime scene for a change."

Gibbs didn't even bother looking at Ducky this time, as it became obvious what was going on. "You and Ducky were here already?"

Abby sighed, "Yes." She had the eyes of a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

Ducky felt that he must defend Abby. "We were having a picnic just down the road, Jethro, when we received your call. Abby wanted to learn more about evidence collection, so she decided to accompany me."

Still looking at Abby, Gibbs asked, "You were having a picnic dressed like that?"

She couldn't tell if he was amused or angry. "Well, yes, Gibbs, is it a crime to want to look good?"

He tried to repress a smile but wasn't completely successful. "I guess not. You do look good, I agree. You can stay, but don't touch anything without gloves. Better yet, don't touch anything."

"Yes, Master," she replied, grinning.

He didn't even deign to answer that, although he chuckled under his breath – just loud enough for Ducky to hear. "Alright, let's get started."

* * *

Tony whistled when he saw Abby's dress, and for a moment she thought that either Ducky, or Gibbs, or both would punch him. But Gibbs settled for a head slap. "Cut it out, DiNozzo, or you'll be looking for another job."

"Yes, Boss." He began taking pictures of the scene, taking over the task which Gibbs had begun.

A few moments later Ziva and McGee drove up. Tony started to make a comment, but was silenced by a look from his boss. He really didn't want to lose his job, and Gibbs seemed rather tense and uptight, so it would be best not to push him.

"Ziva, help Ducky until Palmer gets here. McGee, tag and bag behind Tony." The two agents started at the periphery of the scene to allow Ducky space to work.

Abby sat on a nearby rock and watched, forcing herself to remain quiet, when what she really wanted was to get right in the middle and help with the evidence collection. Or better yet, she thought, she could assist Ducky with the exam of the corpse. After all, she knew more about it than Ziva did.

She sighed at Gibb's protectiveness. Was it her he was protecting, or the crime scene? Just then she caught Ducky's eyes and blew a kiss at him. He smiled, then returned his attention to the body on the ground.

Abby didn't realize that Ziva had seen their affectionate exchange. She was startled, but she was too well-trained to let it show on her face. She made a mental note to talk to Abby later; clearly something was happening between the forensic scientist and the medical examiner.

Palmer showed up with the van five minutes later, and Ziva began looking around. Her path happened to take her near Abby, and she asked in a low voice, "What's up with you and Ducky?"

For a moment, Abby said nothing, feeling the blush spreading up her neck to her face. Then she said very quickly, "Nothing, Ziva. We're friends you know and I'm very affectionate with my friends, just like the rest of you." She threw back her head and laughed, a little too loudly.

She felt pinned under Ziva's piercing gaze. Ziva moved closer and whispered, "I've seen _Coupling_, you know. The prickles, the blurts, and the head laugh?"

Abby was speechless as the other woman moved away. She hadn't expected to give herself away so easily – but of course, Ziva was very observant, almost enough to rival Gibbs.

Abby would have to be much more careful!


	4. Chapter 4

What Mrs. Mallard Said --4

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Abby had to make full use of her ability to compartmentalize once she arrived in her lab. She knew she mustn't let her mind wander, even though she wanted to.

Ducky had made the same decision, but the situation did throw him off to the point that he hardly recalled any anecdotes that day.

"Uh, Dr. Mallard, is anything wrong?" Jimmy asked finally.

"No, not at all," Ducky replied, looking up absently. He didn't realize he had a very telling smile on his face. "Why do you ask, Mr. Palmer?"

Jimmy wasn't sure how to answer or even if he should answer. When Ducky looked at him inquiringly, he haltingly said, "Um… you're not telling stories today. And, uh, you are smiling quite a bit. More than usual, I mean."

"My smiling is hardly indicative of something wrong," Ducky pointed out. "Quite the contrary, actually." He finished extracting the bullet from the body on the table. "I'm taking this to Abby. Mr. Palmer, continue with the internal exam and be ready to tell me your findings when I return."

Jimmy gulped. "Yes, doctor."

When Ducky walked into Abby's lab, he was surprised to hear big band music coming from her CD player. Abby herself was twirling from one machine to another, the skirt of her dress flying as she checked for results. On the third twirl she caught sight of him. "Ducky!" she cried, enveloping him in something more than a bear hug but not noticeably inappropriate. Her next move, however, _was_ – she kissed him firmly but affectionately.

"I don't think this is the best place, my love," he whispered when they broke the kiss.

"I just can't wait, Ducky," she told him with a smile. "I really want to be alone with you."

He groaned inside, thinking of how utterly irresistible she was. "Abby, this is the bullet that killed our lieutenant. I expect you'll be able to work your magic on it and produce important evidence."

She beamed. "Thank you for your confidence, Ducky. I will do my best; the sooner we can get out of here, the better." She wrapped her arms around him, but was stopped by a sound from the doorway. They looked up to see Gibbs standing there, his expression rather disapproving.

"What've you got for me, Abbs?" Gibbs asked.

"I've got a bullet which Ducky just brought me," she stated, moving towards her desk. Ducky took that opportunity to leave the lab quietly. "I haven't had a chance to examine it yet."

"Yes, I could see that," Gibbs muttered under his breath.

She heard him, but chose to ignore it. "As far as the blood, it's definitely the lieutenant's. None belongs to anyone else. However –" she stopped to put a picture of a hair on the plasma screen, "There is this hair, which is longer than and a different color from the lieutenant's hair."

"DNA?"

She nodded. "There are only a few cells left, but I think it will be enough for a DNA determination."

"Good work, Abbs." He hesitated for a moment, then leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You're still my favorite," he assured her with a smile. Then he was gone.

Abby's mind was swirling and she felt a bit faint. She knew it was because of Gibbs, but she also knew she had made her choice. With a sigh, she turned back to examine the bullet under the microscope.

* * *

Late that evening, Gibbs sent everyone home because they had reached an impasse in the case and he wasn't sure of the best way to proceed. He knew that time away from NCIS would help his agents as well as himself to recover. The next day they would return with fresh minds and, hopefully, fresh insights.

Abby dawdled as she shut down her machines and straightened the lab. She was incredibly nervous; it had been a very long time since she was this nervous about a "date." But even though no words had been spoken about it, she knew she would go home with Ducky that night. For that reason, she had brought an overnight bag along with her picnic basket.

Finally she had done everything possible – some things twice – and Ducky had not appeared, so she gathered her belongings and went to autopsy to find him.

Ducky was nervous, too, and it was that anxiety which had kept him from going to the lab any sooner. He had finally resorted to a glass of scotch to settle his nerves, and he was almost finished drinking it when Abby entered. "Hi, Ducky!" she said cheerfully, walking across the room to perch on the edge of his desk.

"Hello, my lotus blossom," he said, taking her right hand to kiss it. Abby shivered – it was not a sensation she had felt very often – and when he turned her hand over to kiss the palm, she leaned towards him to claim a kiss on her lips. With her arms around his neck and his around her waist, they continued kissing and lost track of time. When they finally moved apart, the clock showed that 20 minutes had passed. They kept eye contact for a little longer, then Abby gathered her bags. "We can leave my car here," she suggested, somewhat tentatively.

He nodded, as if they had already decided it. "I'll be ready in just a moment, my dear."

Abby could not stop smiling.

* * *

When they arrived at the Mallard residence, Mrs. Mallard scolded "Donald" for being late, then as soon as she saw Abby, she fussed because he had brought home a guest.

"Donald, you should ask before you bring home strange people," she said. "You've forgotten your manners!"

"Mother, Abby is not a strange person. You met her just yesterday, remember?"

"Hi, Mrs. Mallard," Abby said a bit shyly. She held up Bert. "Remember my hippo?"

The older woman peered at Abby intensely, then something seemed to click. "Oh yes! He's delightful!" She took Bert from Abby and began squeezing him repeatedly.

Ducky shook his head and rolled his eyes, but when he looked at Abby she was grinning. "Luckily she didn't remember anything else," Abby said.

"Indeed. Would you like to help me prepare dinner, my love?"

"Sure, Ducky, I'd love to. What are we having?"

"I put a stew on before I left this morning."

"Oh that's what that wonderful smell is!" Abby inhaled deeply. "If it tastes half as good as it smells, then you're the best cook I know."

He flushed a bit as he led Abby into the kitchen. "Would you like an apron?"

She smiled, thinking _'I've never worn an apron in my life. But there is a first time for everything.'_ Aloud, she said, "Thanks, Ducky." She wrapped the apron around her waist, then pulled the ties back around to the front and made a bow.

* * *

Mrs. Mallard went to bed soon after dinner, and Ducky and Abby put the dishes in the dishwasher. They didn't say much, but it wasn't necessary. Smiles and loving gazes said all that needed to be said.

Eventually they were sitting together on the couch, sipping brandy. The alcohol gave Abby a warm glowing feeling, with almost total relaxation. She yawned twice in a row.

"My dear, you must be very tired. Let me show you to your room." He was surprised when he saw that she was troubled. "What is it, Abigail?"

She bit her lower lip, trying to decide how to say it. Finally she just blurted out what she was thinking. "I want to sleep in your bed, Ducky. I want you to hold me, and I will hold you. Is that alright?"

He pulled her closer, until she was almost sitting on his lap. "Yes, I'd like that very much," he murmured, laying her head against his shoulder.

Abby thought that she had never felt more loved in all her life.

When they went to Ducky's room to get ready, she suddenly felt modest. She wasn't sure if the nightclothes she brought would be appropriate in his bed – not yet, anyway. She asked him for a T-shirt, hoping he would have something long enough for her to look decent. Fortunately, he did, and he allowed her to go first in the bathroom.

When she came out, wearing his shirt and her hair falling loose around her shoulders, he could not believe how gorgeous she was. As he passed her, he touched one of her cheeks and held it there for a moment. She responded in kind. Letting go was very difficult for both of them.

When Ducky came out, Abby was already in bed, most of her tucked under the covers. "C'mere, Dr. Mallard," she said softly. He quickly switched off the light and joined her. He could feel her warmth near him, and held out one arm invitingly.

With a contented sigh, she moved closer, her arms going around his neck and her head resting on his shoulder. "Ah, my sweet," Ducky murmured, "I'm very glad I have lived long enough to lie with you this way."

"Me too," she said sleepily.

"Good night, Abby," he said, kissing her.

"Good night, Ducky." Her breathing soon became smooth and even, telling him that she was asleep. But he knew sleep would not come so easily to him that night.


	5. Chapter 5

What Mrs. Mallard Said --5

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

It was at least 2 hours before Ducky managed to sleep; he was all too aware of Abby snuggled up beside him, her cheek firmly resting on his shoulder and her warm breath tickling his ear. But finally he drifted into a fitful sleep, dreaming of the woman sharing his bed.

The next day was Monday, and the alarm went off much too early. "Not yet," Abby said thickly, her eyes still closed. "I'm not ready."

"Neither am I, my dear. I'd be perfectly happy to lie here with you all day," he said earnestly. "Unfortunately, I don't think either of us is ready to retire yet."

Abby sighed and kissed him on the cheek. "I know. It's just that I was sleeping so well – it must be something about you, Ducky. I never sleep like that."

He felt a certain sense of pride to know that he could soothe her that way.

* * *

Ducky and Abby settled into a routine. She brought over enough clothing to last a week, and after that she did not go home at all. Abby felt completely comfortable at Ducky's house, with his mother, in his kitchen, and in his bed.

For four days Ziva hinted and tried to get information from Abby, but the subtle approach wasn't working – probably because subtle was not her strong point. On the fifth day she decided a more direct approach was called for.

Abby was singing when Ziva entered the lab and turned off the music. "Hey!" Abby exclaimed, annoyed. "Why did you do that?"

"I need to talk to you, Abby."

"You could have done that with the music on," the forensic scientist grumbled. "Anyway, talk."

"You have seemed more – what do you call it? – in your own world –"

"Spaced out?"

"Yes, that. You have seemed more spaced out recently. And I know it has to do with Ducky. What is going on, Abby?"

Abby smiled to herself; any thought of Ducky made her smile now. But what should she tell Ziva? The Mossad officer was entirely trustworthy, she was sure of that. Besides, Ziva would enjoy knowing a secret that her partner agents did not know.

"You have to promise not to tell," she said in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning closer to Ziva.

Ziva leaned over as well. "I promise. What is it?"

Abby was grinning so widely it looked as if her face would split. "Ducky and I are seeing each other."

"Ah... yes?" Ziva replied, uncomprehending. "You see one another every day, right?"

"No, no, not that kind of seeing!" She couldn't keep her voice from getting louder, almost too loud. "The dating kind of seeing. The I'm-staying-at-his-house kind."

Ziva's eyebrows snapped up. "Oh, I see. When did this happen?" She wasn't sure if that was an appropriate question to ask, but she didn't know what else to say.

"About a week ago, when we worked the case of the Pentagon mole." She quickly explained the sequence of events without too much detail, but it was enough for Ziva to understand.

"So you are pregnant, then." Well, maybe she did not understand _completely_.

"No, not yet. It's not time. Besides, we haven't –"

"I understand," Ziva said quickly. The image of Abby and Ducky as lovers was something she would rather avoid at all costs.

"Not that I don't want to…" Abby mused, "but he's not the 'sex on the first date' kind. He's too gentlemanly for that."

"Are _you_ the 'sex on the first date' kind?" Ziva asked, amused.

Just then Gibbs strode into the room. "I sure hope this conversation is relevant to the case," he said sternly.

"Of course it is, Gibbs. We're trying to understand the victim's state of mind." Abby said immediately. Ziva looked at her in admiration.

"Yes, and the mind of the criminal as well," she added.

"Abby, do you have anything for me other than sexual speculations?"

He was clearly exasperated, so she didn't try to be funny. "No, Gibbs, I'm sorry. No match on the prints and I'm running the sticky substance through the mass spec right now. I'll let you know as soon as I'm done."

He handed her a Caf!Pow. "It had better be soon."

"It will be."

"Ziva, you're with me," he added, gesturing her to join him.

"Coming, Gibbs." She turned her head just for a second and held one finger to her lips. Abby smiled, knowing that her secret was safe for the time being.

* * *

Several hours later Ducky was taking a break, drinking tea and musing over the past week with Abby. Every night was like a new exploration, another step towards anticipated bliss. He didn't want to hurry. There was no need to hurry; Abby seemed content to follow his lead and proceed slowly.

He thought about the previous night, when they had spent over half an hour just kissing, and he had carefully but confidently touched her smooth, firm breasts. Just a few gentle caresses, but he could feel her shivering at his touch, and a bolt of electricity spread fire through his body. He sighed, remembering.

Just then the autopsy doors swished open and he looked up to see Gibbs carrying an unconscious Abby, with McGee and Ziva in tow. "What happened?" he asked, moving quickly across the room.

Gibbs placed her face up on the first empty table, breathing hard. Ducky saw that she was pale – so pale, he feared she was dead. But McGee quickly relieved his mind.

"Abby was running tests on the blood samples from the midshipmen, and I was disassembling one of their computers. You know how she likes to do cartwheels? Well, she missed and hit her head against the brick wall. She tried to get up, then fainted."

While McGee was talking, Ducky checked her pulse, listened to her heart, checked her temperature and looked at her pupils with a flashlight. To his relief, her pupils responded to light, so she probably did not have serious brain damage. Her heartbeat was a bit irregular but not dangerously so.

"Is she okay, Duck?" Gibbs asked urgently.

"She will be," the doctor replied. "We need to wake her up, if possible." He gently shook one shoulder. "Abby, wake up. You've had an accident." Her eyelids flickered upwards, then down again. "Help me sit her up, Jethro." With one on each side, Abby was lifted to a sitting position, her head falling forward until Ducky caught it with his other hand.

"I've got her, Ducky," said Gibbs.

Looking at his friend gratefully, Ducky held Abby's cheeks and gently rubbed them. "Wake up, my dear. It's time to wake up." His voice became stern. "Abigail, open your eyes immediately. No time to sleep now."

She groaned, her eyes still closed. "Ducky… head hurts…"

Her friends standing around breathed a sigh of relief.

"I know, dear. _Please_ open your eyes – just for me, my love?" Ducky spoke earnestly, his attention fixed on Abby, as though they were alone in the room.

Her eyelids began to move up again, and this time they stayed. She looked around, confused because her vision was blurred. But Ducky was close and she recognized him. She threw her arms around him and held on tight, beginning to sob from the pain.

Gibbs motioned to McGee and Ziva to follow him back to the elevator. "Take good care of her, Ducky," he called as they left, looking back with some regret.

She raised her head to look at him. "What happened? Why does my head hurt so bad, Ducky?"

"You have a concussion, dear Abigail. You had an accident in your lab, and Gibbs brought you to me."

"Don't remember that."

"That's normal; head trauma often causes amnesia. What is the last thing you remember?"

"McGee with a computer…" her eyes went out of focus and she began to slump over again.

"Abby! Abigail!" He tried again to wake her, but was unsuccessful. Fear developed rapidly in his gut, and he picked up the phone to call for an ambulance. Just as the call was answered, she grew rigid, then began to jerk slightly. He rushed to turn her on her side in case of vomiting. "Ambulance to NCIS, immediately!" he shouted into the phone.

Abby continued her unconscious movements…


	6. Chapter 6

What Mrs. Mallard Said --6

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Abby woke in a hospital bed with electrodes adhering to her scalp and hair, pulling at the roots. "Ow," she muttered.

Ducky, who had fallen asleep in the chair beside her bed, woke instantly at the sound. "Abby? Are you awake?"

She slowly opened her eyes, smiling when she saw his face. "Ducky," she whispered. "I'm glad you're here."

"So am I," he replied fervently, taking her hand, "but I wish neither one of us were here."

"Why am I here?" she asked, having suddenly realized where she was.

"You have a concussion, but thankfully it isn't serious, according to your MRI."

"How did I get a concussion?"

"By doing cartwheels in your lab," Gibbs answered as he walked into the room. "Not a good idea, Abbs." He gave her a little half smile and took a sip from the cup of coffee that seemed to be melded to his hand.

"Oh." She smiled sheepishly.

"Yes, fortunately young Timothy was there at the time; he and Jethro brought you to me. When you began convulsing, I summoned an ambulance. You can never be sure about a head injury without looking inside the skull. I remember the case of a cricket player who was hit in the head with a bat, continued playing the remainder of the game, then dropped dead as soon as his team won. Autopsy showed the blow to the head caused a berry aneurysm at the base of his brain to burst."

Abby smiled and squeezed his hand. "Is that meant to make me feel better, Ducky?"

"Erm… well, no, not really, but in any case you needn't worry about it. The doctors checked you thoroughly for bleeding, aneurysms, arteriovenous malformations, and so forth. Your seizure was caused by swelling, and since the swelling has gone down, there have been no more."

"Great!" Abby moved as if to climb out of bed.

"Whoa!"

"Wait a minute, my dear," they said simultaneously. Ducky continued, "You're being kept for observation overnight."

"Oh." She seemed to deflate as she leaned back against the bed. "I _hate_ hospitals!"

"So do I," agreed Gibbs, "but you're staying here anyway."

"Spoilsport!" she grumbled.

Just then Tony, Ziva, and Tim walked in, each bearing a gift for Abby. There were the obligatory black roses, a stuffed Ebola virus, and something wrapped up which Ziva said she should wait to open. Abby looked at Ziva, bemused, and Ziva winked. Abby nodded, knowing what was meant by that. She was anxious to get _that_ present (and Ducky!) home as soon as possible!

"You guys, I'm only going to be here overnight," she said.

"You can take the flowers home, can't you?" asked Tony. At the looks he got from his co-workers, he added, "And the other presents, too, of course."

"Yeah." Abby glanced at Ducky and saw the sparkle in his eyes. She knew he saw it in hers as well. "You know how I feel about hospitals. I can't wait to get out of here!"

* * *

Abby's EEG's the rest of the day and through the night remained normal. The swelling that caused the initial seizure had clearly resolved and no further complications developed. At noon the next day a nurse was completing her discharge paperwork while Abby contemplated how she would carry everything to the car. More gifts had arrived the evening before, which wasn't surprising considering how popular she was at NCIS. Some of her "outside" friends sent flowers or balloons also.

The nurse saw her frowning as she looked around, and smiled at Abby. "We'll get you a cart, Ms. Sciuto. Don't worry."

"Oh. Thanks." Abby remembered something from her childhood and added, "Do I have to leave in a wheelchair?"

"No, we stopped that some time ago. If you don't need it, you don't get it. And you don't need it." She handed a clipboard to Abby. "Sign here, please."

Even with the cart, Abby and Ducky each had to carry something to Ducky's car when he came to pick her up. He had not brought the Morgan, choosing the larger sedan instead, but it was full when they left – there was barely enough room for the two of them.

Both were quiet on the ride back to his house. Abby was not allowed to go back to work for two more days, a restriction which she disliked very strongly but recognized as necessary. There was too much danger in that lab to take a chance on having a late complication such as another seizure, no matter how unlikely it might be.

"Ducky," she said, when they were almost there, "I know you can't stay home with me. But I really wish you could."

"Actually, I can and I intend to," he told her with a smile. "Like Gibbs' team, I have a great deal of unused vacation time. And I have the best possible reason to use it. I have a surprise for you, Abby."

"Really?" Abby's voice changed immediately from sad to excited. "I have that box from Ziva to open, too."

"Yes, I was wondering about that. Why did Ziva ask you not to open it before you went home?"

"Hmm, maybe I won't tell you. Then I'll have a surprise for you too!"

Ducky chuckled. "That sounds delightful, dear one."

* * *

Ducky's mother seemed excited by the flowers, balloons, and other gifts that Abby and Ducky brought in from the car. "Donald, is it my birthday?" she asked, clapping her hands together. Her nurse smiled. "But why are my flowers dead?"

"It's not your birthday, Mother, those are Abby's."

"Abby? Who is that?"

"Me, Mrs. Mallard," said Abby, setting down a vase of black carnations. "Remember me?"

The elderly woman stared blankly at her for a few seconds, then her expression cleared and she smiled. "Yes, my dear. I remember you. You are Donald's true love." The brief moment of lucidity passed and she began talking again about the "dead flowers."

"Mrs. Mallard, it's time for your tea," the nurse told her, leading her into the next room.

Ducky took Abby's hand. "Well, she certainly got that one right," he told her, his voice somewhat husky with emotion. He drew Abby closer to him and kissed her, first chastely then when her tongue touched his lips tentatively he opened his mouth to her, feeling a sudden need to hold her close and kiss her breathless.

She was indeed breathless when they finally broke apart. "I love you, too, Ducky."

He led her to sit on a nearby couch. "I know, my lotus blossom. I can see it in every move you make, in every touch, in every word you speak to me. Can you see my love for you?"

Abby nodded and rested her head against his shoulder, holding him closer. "I see it Ducky," she replied softly, a slight catch in her voice.

After a few moments she sat back. "Ducky, I –"

"You know –"

They spoke simultaneously, then both apologized and told the other to continue. They laughed, and Abby said, "You first, Ducky."

He hesitated for a moment, then realized he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask. Wordlessly, he stood up, still holding her hand, and led her towards the staircase. Along the way, Abby grabbed the package from Ziva and smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

What Mrs. Mallard Said --7

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Ducky put his arm around Abby's shoulders and she wrapped her arms around him as they climbed the stairs. Abby felt tingly, intense excitement slowly building throughout her body and focusing on her core. She knew that being with Ducky was going to change her life – in fact, it already had.

Ducky could also feel the heat building throughout his body, but more than anything else he felt the warmth of love from his heart. It was so freeing to finally be able to show her the deep feelings he'd held buried for many years.

They walked together through the bedroom door, then Ducky carefully closed and locked it. He turned to Abby and took her hands in his. "Abigail," he said in a low, husky voice, "You deserve the best loving any man can give. Let me make love to you now, and my very best is what you will receive."

"Oh Ducky," she whispered, hugging him close. For once, she was speechless.

He cupped her face in his hands and slowly brought his lips to hers, causing her to shiver slightly. Her full lips were smooth and supple, and he relished their warmth as he slid his lips against hers. Abby impatiently tapped his lips with her tongue, and he smiled against her mouth. "Patience, my love," he whispered, before returning to his exploration of her lips.

Soon he opened his mouth to hers, allowing entrance for her tongue and encircling it with his own. The kiss deepened, and Abby found herself inching backward towards the bed. She was usually dominant in sexual situation, but this time it was different. She wondered if this was what they meant by "true love" – to give yourself fully to another person. The very thought caused a little cry to rise from the back of her throat. The sound seemed to inflame Ducky's passion, and he began to systematically remove her clothing. She soon followed suit with his, and she was pleased to find that he was not ashamed for her to see him naked. He was older, to be sure, but that did not mean that he wasn't sexy. Abby sat down on the bed as her knees made contact, and with his manhood directly in front of her, she could not help but caress his balls fondly and catching the head of his penis in her mouth.

"Oh, Abby," he moaned. With some difficulty he pushed her away – he wanted to make love to her, not have her service him. He gestured for her to lie back, and she did so, in a provocative yet innocent position. The sight took his breath away. He had never seen anything so gorgeous as her naked body spread out before him.

"Will you join me?" she asked.

He lay beside her on the bed and began to nibble on her neck and shoulders, while his hand traveled gently up and down her curves. "Beautiful," he murmured against her neck. He rubbed one nipple with his thumb and forefinger, causing it to harden instantly.

"Ducky," she said breathlessly. The heat between her legs increased, accompanied by a rush of wetness. His fingers splayed along her flat abdomen, then moved lower with an excruciating slowness towards the place she most wanted him.

She bucked against his hand, and he stroked her inner thighs gently, to keep her from getting too much too soon. He took one supple breast into his mouth, suckling it hard enough to elicit several moans from Abby before he let go of it. Then he moved to the other one, and after flicking the nipple with his tongue, he began to use his teeth – gently at first, then harder as her moans and sighs spurred him on.

He could feel his own throbbing member, aching with desire for her, but he had ached for her before and now that he had her, he was determined to take his time with her.

"My lovely Abigail," he said softly, as he planted gentle kisses down her abdomen and around her hips. She separated her legs further, urgently inviting him to explore her most sensitive areas. The scent of her arousal was almost overpowering; he visualized filling her with his shaft and pumping in and out.

No, not too much fantasy. He would wait for the reality. He trailed his tongue along her inner thighs, holding her writhing body as it sought more contact with him. "Ducky, please!" Abby begged, panting.

Her plea moved him to action. In one swift movement he found the engorged, sensitive nub with his tongue and lightly flicked it. Abby screamed and shook with the intensity of the orgasm his simple movement provoked. He licked her juices from her thighs, relishing her sweet and tangy taste, then moved to her swollen folds where his tongue darted inside. "Yes, Ducky, yes," she moaned. He continued fucking her with his tongue, his fingers massaging her clit, and she came again with a loud cry. He could feel the contractions with his tongue, and now he wanted to be inside her.

At the same time Abby demanded, "I want you inside me, Ducky, now, please!" She raised her knees to give better access while he moved up to her level, kissing her voraciously. A second later he entered her and she gasped. She knew he would be good, but not this good – she felt overwhelmed by the sensations he was producing. He sank all the way into her depths, then out and in again, her hips meeting his with every stroke. Abby opened her eyes to see his, heavy-lidded, darkened with arousal. "My love," he whispered, "darling Abby. I love you, dearest."

"I love you Ducky.. oh.. oh.. now, Ducky!"

"Yes!" he cried out as he exploded inside her. She all but blacked out from the release of tension. Her inner walls contracted to draw every drop out of him, and when he was spent, he had just enough strength left to slip out of her and collapse on his back beside her. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I love you, Abby,"

"Ducky… " she whispered as her eyes slid closed. Her arm came up and over him as she turned towards him, and she was instantly asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 8

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

* * *

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs came alert at the sound of his name, realizing that it already had been called three times earlier. "What, DiNozzo?" he growled.

"Are you all right, Boss?" Tony asked tentatively. He knew it was best not to ask Gibbs personal questions, but when his boss's attention was this far away, it would be dangerous for the team if Tony didn't try to find out why.

There was a pronounced pause, during which time Gibbs' face froze and stayed that way.

Finally, "What do you got for me, DiNozzo?" he asked irritably, turning to face his senior agent, who was standing in front of his desk.

Tony wisely refrained from asking the question again. "Cell phone records for Jensen," he answered. "They show seventeen calls to his ex-wife's home in the half hour before she was murdered. You think he was trying to warn her or something?"

"Maybe he was telling her 'I'm about to kill you,'" suggested McGee helpfully.

Tony gave him a disgusted look. "Don't be ridiculous, McFoolish."

Ziva put in, "The GPS locator on the phone showed Jensen was three and a half miles away when he made those calls. The last one was made one minute before the neighbor reported gunfire. I doubt he could have traveled that distance in one minute."

"Yeah, but the neighbor could be wrong. Tony, Ziva, go get the neighbor and bring her in for questioning. She might have some motive for lying. Talk to the other neighbors as well. McGee –" For some reason Gibbs' brain was not working well, and he shook his head, becoming angry. "Dammit, McGee, just do what you do best."

"Yes, boss. I'll check out the neighbor's background to see if she has any connection to Jensen." He sat down at his desk and tried to look as busy as possible.

Gibbs turned to Tony and Ziva, who were still standing in the bullpen. "What are you two still doing here? Go on!" He gestured for them to leave, then mumbled, "'m going for coffee, McGee."

"Yes, Boss."

Gibbs kept his expression inscrutable until he was some distance away from McGee, then he allowed it to fall into one that better matched the way he felt. Dammit, he really missed Abby. And knowing that she was with Ducky was not helpful in any way. In fact, every time he thought of it he felt an anger he didn't want to acknowledge.

He had told her he wouldn't mind. And when he had said it, he believed it and meant it. But that was then, before anything had actually happened, before it was anything more than theoretical. Something in his mind could not imagine that it would really happen, so he didn't admit to the jealousy it would cause him. He had wanted to believe it wouldn't bother him if she had Ducky's child, because he didn't want to lose her.

_He didn't want to lose her_. The misery in his gut was finally uncovered – he felt that she had slipped from his grasp into the arms of another man. An old friend, yes, but that just made it worse. 'Ducky should have known better', Gibbs thought petulantly. 'He knows how I feel about Abby.' Then another voice in his head said 'You've had years to approach her, you know. It's your own fault. If you had told her your feelings sooner instead of screwing around with random redheads, this would not have happened.'

He barely stopped himself from bashing his fist through the nearest wall. "Fuck, I've got to do something," he muttered to himself. He reversed his path and headed for the elevator up to MTAC and Jenny's office.

As usual, he didn't wait for Cynthia to announce him, he just opened the office door and entered. Jen was seated at the desk wearing her reading glasses and glancing over a pile of paperwork. "Thank goodness, Jethro," she said, taking off the glasses with relief. "That paperwork is driving me nuts." He didn't answer and she looked up at him. The look on his face told her immediately that he was in emotional pain.

"What's wrong, Jethro?" she asked, alarmed. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not a man who showed emotion, at least not pain, not hurt. She stood up and circled the desk to stand closer to him.

"I – Jen –" he could not make himself say the words, so he looked away, leaving Jenny to guess. Fortunately she knew him well enough to have recognized that he had some kind of unique feelings towards Abby. She felt certain he himself had not sorted them out, but nevertheless they were there.

"Is it about Abby?" she asked quietly.

He looked at her with eyes that were devoid of hope, and that told her all she needed to know. She stood and came slowly towards him, giving him a chance to communicate with body language that he wanted to be left alone.

But there was no sign of that. In fact, he began to lift his arms to hug her before she even reached him. He clung to her tightly, and she could tell by the way his shoulders shook that voiceless sobs had overcome him. All she could do was murmur comforting words and hold him until it passed.

A few minutes later he stilled, his head against hers. "Jen," he began hoarsely.

"It's okay, Jethro, you don't have to explain."

He released her and stepped back slightly. "Yes, I think I do." Jenny joined him in taking a seat on the couch. He slowly and with some difficulty recounted the events that had led him to this point. "I thought I could deal with it, Jen," he finished, "but now I'm not so sure."

"Why is that?" she asked gently.

"Because I think she may have fallen in love with him. Which means I've just let her go."

* * *

Once the elevator doors closed, Tony and Ziva both began to speak.

"I can't believe –"

"What do you think –"

They stopped, and Tony gallantly said, "Go ahead, Ziva."

"I can't believe Gibbs has lost his concentration so severely. It is endangering himself and the team. I may have to speak to Director Shepard about it."

"Wait a minute, if necessary _we_ will speak to Director Shepard. I just can't imagine what is going on to make him like this. He's been this way ever since we found that mole in the Pentagon." The elevator reached the garage level and they stepped out. "What's up, d'you think?"

Ziva didn't answer right away, which caused him to look at her. "You know something," he realized. "What is it? Tell me, Ziva. This is very important."

She sighed. "I know, Tony. Normally I would not break a confidence. I could not have achieved my reputation in Mossad without the ability to keep a secret. But I do think I should tell you."

They climbed into the sedan. "Tell me what?" Tony demanded, as he adjusted the mirrors.

"That Ducky and Abby are together."

He stopped moving instantly, then slowly turned to look at her. "What did you just say? You didn't say what I think you did."

She nodded. "Ducky. Abby. I know, I never would have expected it either."

"When did this happen?"

"Not long ago, it seems. I found out when we had the case in Great Falls Park." She glanced at Tony. "Abby said that Gibbs was okay with it, but perhaps she was mistaken."

"Judging from the way things are going, I would say she was very mistaken."


	9. Chapter 9

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 9

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Abby awakened the following morning with a smile on her lips and a sigh of contentment. Memories of the night before flooded her thoughts. After they made love for the first time and both enjoyed a short nap, Ducky had cooked dinner for them. The rest of the evening was spent watching old black and white movies on the couch with Abby lying in Ducky's arms. When the last movie was over, they went to bed and fell asleep with Abby's head pillowed on Ducky's shoulder and his arms wrapped protectively around her.

The feeling was so wonderful, she didn't want to move out of Ducky's embrace, but unfortunately her bladder was rather insistent. Gently moving his arm, she inched her way off the bed and went quietly into the master bathroom.

When she returned, he appeared to be asleep, but his eyes opened when she had almost reached the bed. "My dear Abby," he murmured, holding his arms out for her. "You can't know how happy you have made this old man."

She lay beside him, something about his old-fashioned but sincere expressions of love – so different from what she had heard in past relationships – bringing tears to her eyes, and for several minutes she said nothing, merely held him close.

Presently he could hear her sniffing. "Abby?" he asked, concerned. "Are you all right? You're not crying are you?"

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "Not really crying," she answered, "just a few tears. No one has ever treated me the way you do before."

"Well then, my love, you have been shortchanged. I have noticed that young men today do not know how to behave properly towards the women they love."

She smiled. "Probably true, Ducky. Not that they aren't sincere, but they just haven't the knowledge or the skills, apparently. Or maybe it is just _you_, Duckman."

He felt a bit flustered and tried to hide it with a kiss to her forehead. "Do you still want to see your surprise?" he asked, changing the subject as he held her just a bit closer.

"Oh, yes, of course! I had completely forgotten. I hope you don't take that the wrong way."

"Au contraire, my dear. I consider it the highest compliment." He brushed an errant lock of hair from her face and smoothed it down with the rest of the hair at her temple. "I'm actually surprised you didn't notice it yesterday."

"Yesterday?" she asked, puzzled. "But why would I – you mean –" She broke into a grin. "You didn't! You did? Where?"

His charmingly lopsided smile made her want to promise herself to him forever. But that fugitive thought was interrupted when he admitted, "On my ass, of course."

"Oooh, let me see!" she squealed. He turned away from her and pointed to his left cheek; she pulled aside his boxers to find the small heart that said "Abby" in the middle, printed permanently in indelible ink. Suddenly the tears were back – she knew what this meant to him. "Oh, Ducky –" He turned back towards her and the rest of her remark was smothered as he kissed her passionately, suddenly feeling much younger than his years.

"My God, Abby," he murmured when they paused to take a breath.

"Yes," she whispered, her cheeks flushed.

"Yes what, my dear?"

"Just yes," she sighed, hugging him tightly. "Just yes."

They held each other for a long time, occasionally kissing, then Ducky remembered the package from Ziva. "Abby, what do you think is in Ziva's package?" he asked curiously.

She giggled a little. "I'm not exactly sure, but I think I know its purpose. You want me to open it?"

"Certainly!" He almost wished he was not curious when she climbed out of bed, however, because he instantly missed her warmth.

She sat on the edge of the bed, ripping away the wrapping paper and taking the lid off the box. Inside, surrounded by tissue paper, was a silky black corset decorated with red skulls and the word "Abby" embroidered on the left side of the bra.

"Oh, my," Ducky breathed. "How lovely! It will be even lovelier with you in it, though. Will you model it for me?"

She laughed with delight. "Of course, Ducky. I may need your help, though – it's a lace up."

He raised one eyebrow. "Indeed. But how can you be sure I won't be tempted to _un_-lace it instead?"

"I'm _not_ sure, but either way it doesn't matter," she grinned. "Let's try it and see!"

* * *

A/N: This is a short chapter – next we'll get back to Gibbs' feelings of jealousy.


	10. Chapter 10

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 10

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

On the third day after Abby's accident, she and Ducky both returned to work. It was only natural that they would travel together, and on the way to their respective labs they headed to the bullpen to tell everyone hello.

Abby stole a kiss as soon as the elevator doors closed, resulting in matching smiles on their faces when they stepped out at the second floor. Ducky didn't even realize he had one arm around her waist, it had become such a natural thing to do.

However, everyone else noticed it. McGee saw them as soon as they left the elevator and stopped in mid-sentence of a conversation with Tony. Ziva and Tony followed McGee's line of sight and both nodded.

"You knew about this?" McGee whispered to Tony.

"Yeah, Ziva told me."

"And you managed to keep a secret for once? Why did it have to be this one?"

Gibbs had glanced at the pair but quickly buried his gaze in the file he was examining.

"Abby, you look great," said Tony, standing to give her a hug.

"I am happy you are back now," Ziva said, her expression questioning.

"Yes, thank you," Abby whispered in her ear.

McGee approached them as well, although he was more hesitant. "Abby… we were worried about you."

"Oh, thank you, Tim, but as you can see I was in very good hands," she replied, taking Ducky's hand.

Gibbs raised his head sharply at that remark. "Good to see you Abby, Duck." He could not bring himself to look directly at them. "We definitely missed your skills. The replacement M.E. and forensic scientist were nowhere near as good as you two."

"Thank you, Jethro," Ducky said quietly.

Abby gave Gibbs a quick hug – quick because she could feel the tiniest bit of resistance when she embraced him. She tried not to show her disappointment; instead she walked back to Ducky and resumed holding his hand. "Bye, everyone," she called as they returned to the elevator.

Once they were inside and alone once more, Abby said, "Gibbs is not dealing with this well."

"No, he isn't; that much was apparent."

"What should we do?" Abby asked, worried.

"I'm not sure there is anything we can do that will make him feel better," Ducky sighed. "All we can do is be honest with him; he has to do the rest himself."

The doors opened to Abby's lab but she did not step out. Instead, she stood still, looking thoughtful. Finally she said, "My feelings have changed."

"Oh," said Ducky with obvious disappointment, thinking she meant her feelings towards him. "You know you are free –" he began, letting go of her hand.

"No," she interrupted, taking back his hand, "not my feelings for you. I mean my feelings for Gibbs." She sighed. "I'm not in love with him anymore, Ducky. I don't want anyone else but you."

Ducky's heart leapt at her statement, but at the same time he could see the potential difficulty with his old friend. "You must tell him, Abby."

"I know," she replied, morosely. "I hate to hurt him, but I can't string him along, either." She pushed the button that would take Ducky to autopsy. "I'm going to tell him before I start work," she said resolutely.

He kissed her forehead. "Let me know how it goes, my love," he said simply, before stepping off the elevator and turning the corner, out of her sight.

For a few seconds she debated with herself as to whether or not this was really a good idea. Finally her sense of fairness won out and she directed the elevator back to the second floor.

* * *

Gibbs had gone back to the file he was holding but he could not focus. He cursed himself internally for letting the situation bother him. _'Damn, why did this have to happen? It's your fault, you bastard. You behaved like an ass, so what should you expect?'_ He felt sure she had fallen in love with Ducky – although he still held out one tiny bit of hope that maybe her feelings for Ducky were not as strong as her feelings for him.

What should he do now? Should he talk to Abby or Ducky or both of them, try to change the situation? He decided he would, and stood up just as Abby returned. She lingered beside the elevator looking directly at him, biting her lower lip. His gut was in turmoil as he walked towards her. "Abby," he said evenly.

"Can we talk, Gibbs?" she asked, gesturing towards the elevator. He nodded and they both entered. He hit the emergency stop as soon as it began to move, then turned to face her.

"What is it, Abbs?" He was not going to make this any easier for her by voicing his own thoughts.

"It's about Ducky," she began, and he rolled his eyes. As if he didn't already know that! But she continued, "I'm in love with him, Gibbs."

"I know," he replied quietly.

"You do? How – it doesn't matter how. But I have to be honest with you, because everything has changed since we talked about this in your basement."

"How else has it changed?"

She looked away, then forced herself to meet his gaze. "I'm not in love with you anymore. I still care about you. But I want to be with Ducky. I'm sorry, Gibbs. I didn't know this would happen."

He didn't answer, merely flipped the switch to get the elevator moving towards her lab again.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked, distressed.

"Nothing to say. There's evidence waiting for you in your lab. You should get started." The doors opened again, and she left the elevator this time, knowing that she would get nothing else out of him. Just as the doors closed on him she glanced back; the hurt expression on his face was unmistakable.

Abby sighed. She felt guilty for hurting him even though she knew it was unavoidable. He deserved to know the truth, but she truly regretted his hurt feelings.

As she entered the lab and dialed Ducky's number, she couldn't help the tears that were forming in her eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 11

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Gibbs walked into the bullpen, his expression unreadable. "Tony, you're in charge," he said, getting his coat and keys. "I'll be back."

"Where are you going, boss?" Tony asked as Gibbs walked rapidly past him on his way back to the elevator. But there was no answer; all he saw was Gibbs' back and then the doors closed.

"This is not good," Ziva said, moving to sit on the edge of Tony's desk. "We have to tell Jenny."

"I've never seen him like this," McGee commented. "He didn't seem to mind when _I_ was dating Abby."

"You weren't planning to have a baby with her," put in Ziva. The two men turned to stare at her. "I told you about that, Tony. Don't you remember?"

"No, I don't, because you _didn't_ tell me."

"Yes, I did. We were at the pizza place when I told you; I had a beef and mushroom –"

"I remember eating pizza, but there is no way you –"

"Guys, stop!" pleaded McGee. "We don't have time for this. We need to decide what to do."

"What to do about what?" asked a voice from behind him.

McGee groaned almost noiselessly, and Tony looked uncomfortable. But Ziva, having completed many missions with the NCIS Director, was not intimidated. "We were just going to discuss it with you, Director," she said. "It's about Gibbs."

"Oh." Jenny looked around her. "Where is Gibbs, anyway?"

"He left."

"And put Tony in charge."

"After a conversation with Abby," finished Ziva.

Jenny's eyes lit with understanding. "I see. And you were wondering what to do."

"Yeah," replied Tony. "Not that I mind being team leader, but – yeah."

"I still don't get why he's going off the deep end over this," said McGee, shaking his head.

"That's because you don't know the strength of his feelings for Abby," the Director replied softly. She stared into the distance for a moment, then cleared her throat. "There isn't anything the three of you can do about Gibbs; you need to focus on your work. Tony, I feel sure you can handle being team leader. If all of you do your best work, this won't seriously impact NCIS."

"Yes, ma'm."

"Yes, Director."

"I will deal with Jethro," she continued. "If I need your help, I'll contact you. Agreed?" They nodded, and she walked away from them, towards the staircase to her office. She would let Cynthia know she might be gone a few hours.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs drove in a daze towards his home, barely aware of traffic, stop lights, and his speedometer. He was an excellent driver even on autopilot, and an outside observer of his driving would not have known anything was wrong. The only apparent difference, and it was a minor one, was that he drove just a bit slower than normal.

When he became aware of himself again, he was opening the side door and walking into the house. He stopped for a moment, letting the feelings back into his consciousness just a bit, but it was too painful. To think of the woman he had just realized he loved being with his best friend and confidante forever was far too deep a wound to process.

He immediately went downstairs to the basement where the latest half-finished boat stood. An almost full bottle of Jack sat on the workbench; he picked it up and swallowed a quarter of the bottle in one swig. It burned a wide trail down his throat and left him coughing for a few seconds afterward, but he didn't care. He just needed the alcohol -- something to take away the pain even if only for a short time.

He took another drink, then looked around, wondering which tool he should use. He picked up a 1" chisel and stabbed at the side of the boat, but the crack it made was hardly satisfying. No, it would take a stronger tool than that to get his feelings out. One more drink and he picked up his sledgehammer, slamming it down onto the wood with barely controlled rage. He pounded with the sledgehammer again and again and again, until he was out of breath and the boat was in pieces on the concrete floor. Then he threw the hammer at the opposite wall and collapsed, half-screaming and half-sobbing with his hands over his face.

He kept seeing them together. He couldn't get the picture out of his mind. Even just the memory of that morning when they were holding hands was more than he could bear. Envisioning anything more intimate than that created a raging storm in his gut, with pain and emptiness and anger and sorrow all mixed together. It was too much, just too much.

After a time he grew quiet and his body stilled. It was then that he realized he was not alone.

He looked up and saw Jenny sitting on the steps. For a moment he lowered his head again in embarrassment, then he thought defiantly, 'I have every right to be angry!'

"Yes, Jethro, you do," she agreed, and he realized he had voiced his thought out loud. "You have every reason to be angry and hurt and …" Her voice trailed off as she stood up and slowly walked towards him.

He said nothing, merely stared at her.

She looked at the boat – or rather, the broken pieces of wood that had been his boat. "Did that help?"

He nodded.

"How much?"

Finally he spoke. "Like a quarter inch out of a yardstick."

"I thought so."

Neither one said anything for several minutes; Gibbs was still in shock and Jenny felt it best to wait for him to let go a bit, if he would.

Gradually the taut muscles in his neck began to relax. Seeing this, she took his hand to pull him to a stand, then led him up the steps where they both sat on his couch.

"She shouldn't have told you at work." Her voice was more than a little angry. "Abby should have known better."

He leaned back against the cushions. He looked and felt defeated. "Yeah," he whispered hoarsely.

"Is there any way I can help you, Jethro?" she asked, concerned.

He began to shake his head, then stopped and said, "Get drunk with me, Jen. Help me forget."

She searched his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "I'll just make a phone call."

"I'll be downstairs."


	12. Chapter 12

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 12

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Neither Gibbs nor Director Shepard made an appearance the rest of the day. Abby and Ducky both chose to stay downstairs and avoid their coworkers, having decided that it was best to let the dust settle.

Late that afternoon Tony entered Abby's lab, whistling.

"Hi, Tony!" she said as she moved around the room, as usual unable to sit still. "I'm glad to see you. What's going on?"

"Just wanted to come down to see you, Abbs."

"It's been a slow afternoon; didn't you guys get a case today?"

"No, only one major case came in and we gave it to Agent Garcia's team, since Gibbs isn't here."

Abby stopped and turned to stare at Tony. "He isn't?"

"No, he left right after you talked to him."

"Oh," she said softly, looking away. "Tony, you understand, don't you?" she pleaded.

"I'd like to understand, Abby, but since you chose not to tell me anything, it's hard."

'_Ouch,_' she thought. Clearly he was hurt that she had not confided in him at first. "I only told Ziva because she confronted me," Abby explained. "We were going to keep it a secret for awhile at least."

"Are you really trying to get pregnant?"

She smiled and bit her lower lip at the same time. "Yes, Tony, I really am. Or we really are. Not yet, though."

"Do you think Ducky's up to the challenge?"

She chuckled a little, leaning back with her hands on the countertop. "Tony, you have no idea."

"Really?" he asked, intrigued. "Do tell."

"No way! I'm not one to kiss and tell."

"Since when?" he demanded.

She giggled. "Okay, so normally I am. But Ducky is a gentleman and being with him makes me want to act like a lady. A lady does not discuss intimate details with other people."

"I guess that means I'll just have to use my imagination," he said, grinning.

Abby rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She looked away for a moment, then asked tentatively, "Did Gibbs seem very upset?"

Tony hesitated. He didn't want to make Abby feel any guiltier than she obviously did, so he did not answer the question directly. "I think he'll be okay. The Director went over to his house to talk to him."

"Well, that's good – I think," she added dubiously.

"Yeah. I think, too. We'll find out tomorrow. I'd better run, Abbs."

"Bye, Tony." Abby sat down with a sigh. "I wish everything didn't have to be so difficult," she murmured to herself.

* * *

"Have you heard anything from Gibbs?" asked Abby as they sat at dinner that evening.

"Not a word," Ducky replied.

"I'm worried," she admitted. "I'm trying not to be, but I am."

He appeared to be staring into space for several moments. "So am I," he told her.

After a short pause, by unspoken agreement they began to talk of other subjects. The Winter Olympics had begun only a few days before, and Ducky attempted to explain the sport of curling to Abby, who had never heard of it.

"I just don't get it, Ducky," she confessed after he had tried twice to describe the scoring system. "Why would a team just give up? Don't they want to score more points, even if they don't win?"

"No, because there is no advantage to having more points," he replied, becoming rather frustrated. "A team's points over the course of a tournament are not added together; all that matters is wins and losses. If a team fails to concede once it becomes obvious that it cannot win, this is considered a serious breach of etiquette. The Spirit of Curling absolutely prohibits such a situation. In fact, there was an incident in the early 1800's –"

"Oh!" Abby accidentally turned over her water glass. "I'm sorry, Ducky; let me get a towel."

He had already stood up and headed for the kitchen, where they both took out towels to clean up the mess. To Abby's relief, the subject of curling had been forgotten by the time they returned to their meal; she was beginning to get a headache.

Fortunately the night's Olympic coverage did not include any curling matches. Instead, ski jumping and speed skating were featured, and they spent the evening in good-natured teasing about the merits of the athletes from the United States versus those from Ducky's home of Great Britain.

Finally, she could tell that he was getting sleepy, but gallantly trying to stay awake for her sake. "Ducky, I'm tired," she said. "Let's go to bed now."

She had startled him from a TV-induced reverie, and he answered, "What? Oh, yes, of course, my dear. You go ahead; I'll be right up."

As soon as Abby turned the corner of the staircase, Ducky went to a bookshelf and found a thick volume with a worn binding. He carefully pulled it out and set it on the dining table where Abby would be sure to see it the next morning. But before he turned off the lights, he opened the cover to read the title and the autograph: _History of Curling, Scotland's Ain Game,_ by John Kerr, published 1890. Then he smiled and headed upstairs to Abby.


	13. Chapter 13

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 13

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Abby was surprised the next day when Gibbs came down to the lab, acting as if nothing had happened.

"You got those fingerprints, Abby?"

She turned quickly. "Oh – yes. I matched two of them to people who work at the fitness center, but there are still two unknowns – nothing in any of the databases. Do you think the FBI is holding out on us again?" She avoided looking directly into his eyes.

He smirked. "Don't know; I'll check with Fornell. What about the videotape?"

She turned towards the plasma screen, currently displaying patterns of colored static. "Almost completely demagnetized, but there are a few traces left. I sent it to the AV lab; my equipment isn't sensitive enough to make anything of them. I'll let you know when I hear back."

"Great."

Abby felt that something was very wrong, because it seemed as though he was perfectly normal. "Gibbs –" She looked around and realized that he was already gone._ 'That's typical,_' she thought. Shaking her head, she returned to work.

* * *

As usual, Gibbs' next stop was autopsy. "Ya got anything for me?" he called out as soon as the door swished open.

Ducky and Jimmy were in the middle of the internal exam, which involved measuring and weighing the organs of the deceased; as a consequence, both wore gloves that were bloody up to their forearms. "Not yet," Ducky replied.

"No cause of death?" Gibbs stood close to the body and stared at Ducky, making Jimmy think he was impatient with the medical examiner's failure to have any answers.

Only Ducky knew what the stare was really about.

"No," he replied simply. "It may come down to the tox report, or microscopic tissue examination. Give us a bit of time, Jethro."

Gibbs shook his head. "Don't have time, Ducky. Serial killers are pretty consistent in that they keep on killing until someone stops them."

"Actually, that isn't entirely true," Ducky began. "Were you aware that 12% of all serial killers have gaps in their killing sprees, sometimes as long as several years? Of course, by that I mean gaps not accounted for by prison or –"

He looked up and realized that, as usual, Gibbs had left. "Oh, well," he muttered to himself. "Mr. Palmer, do you know what I was about to tell Agent Gibbs?"

"Uh, no, sir."

"Good, at least I can tell someone. As I was saying…"

*******************

Ducky and Abby met for lunch that day – or rather, Ducky brought their lunch up to Abby's lab and made her sit down long enough to eat it. By unspoken agreement, neither mentioned Gibbs.

"My dear," Ducky asked, "are you going to take me out to one of your clubs some day?"

She glanced at him with slight surprise but mostly amusement. "All you had to do was ask," she replied with a smile. "Any preference on the type of club?"

"What is your favorite?"

Her brow furrowed as she thought. "Chocolate Rose plays the best dance music – the kind I play in the lab, I mean. Cream & Sugar is more intimate. I'd suggest one of those – unless you want to go to a fetish club?" Her eyes twinkled, challenging him.

"Why not?" he asked, smiling in return. "What is your pleasure?"

"Oh, Ducky, we have so much time to explore that! I can teach you so many new things."

He chuckled. "Abby, there isn't a fetish or other sexual practice that has never been done before, so you may be startled at what I already know. I may not have direct experience, but that doesn't mean I am ignorant. Or unwilling to try new things."

"Really," she said, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, really." He took one of her hands in his, gently stroking her palm. "I was thinking – considering my age, we might consult a fertility specialist to find out how to maximize our chances. How do you feel about that?"

"It's a great idea! I hope, though, that we don't have to avoid sex for a long time – I've heard that sometimes –"

She was interrupted by someone clearing his throat out in the main lab. They turned and saw that it was Tony.

"Come on in, Tony," Abby said. "We're just having lunch."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't sure how much of that you intended to be heard," he said, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "So I thought I'd better make my presence known."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Tony, but as far as I am concerned, I don't mind. I'm not ashamed." Ducky squeezed Abby's hand and saw to his surprise that she was blushing slightly.

"Yes, _amazingly_ thoughtful considering it's you, Tony!" she teased, hoping he wouldn't notice the blush.

"You're blushing, Abbs," Tony said, teasing back. "And you didn't want to tell me anything because _Ducky_ might not like it."

'_There goes that,' Abby thought to herself. 'He's going to be insufferably nosy from now on.'_ "Mind your own business, Tony!" she said tartly. "If you two want to have a 'guy talk' I can't stop you, but you won't get any details from me! What did you come down for, anyway?"

He recognized her evasive maneuver for what it was, but knew it was best to accept it. "Gibbs wants to know if you have a cause of death yet."

"Let me see if my baby's ready to talk," Abby said, walking to the mass spectrometer. "Great – the tox screen is finished. Hmm –" She carried the report into the office and showed it to Ducky. He glanced at it briefly.

"Just as I suspected," he said. "The elusive potassium. An injection of potassium will cause a heart attack if the concentration is high enough. I haven't found any needle punctures, but perhaps it was concealed by hair or marks on the skin." He stood, wrapping up the rest of his lunch. "You finish eating, Abby; I'll leave this here. Jethro will want to talk to me soon, I imagine, and I'd better have the cause of death explained by then." He leaned over to give Abby a brief kiss on the lips. "Later, my love."

Abby and Tony both watched him leave, then Abby sighed and stood up herself. "I'd better get back to work, too."

"Are you going to finish that sandwich?" he asked eagerly.

Abby rolled her eyes at him. "Take it, Tony. You know, maybe Ducky should check you for a tapeworm."

"Ha ha," he replied. "Hey, since Ducky said he doesn't mind, how about more info?"

She gave him a quick but powerful head slap.

"Ow!" Tony pretended that it hurt much more than it really did.

"Don't forget," Abby said, "that _I _–"

"That you are one of the few people who can kill me and leave no forensic evidence," he finished, moving out of range in case of another slap. "I know, Abbs, but you wouldn't really, would you?"

She continued frowning as long as she could, but in the end his puppy dog eyes won out, and she gave in to amusement. "No, Tony, I wouldn't. But I'm not giving you details, either. Now take that food and go upstairs before Gibbs calls you."

"Right." Carrying the sandwich, he quickly exited the lab.

Abby sighed, leaning against the counter. Her hands came to rest on her flat abdomen. "Soon I'll be carrying a little Duckling," she whispered to herself. The thought of that brought a wide smile and a couple of tears, and kept her smiling for the next few hours.


	14. Chapter 14

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 14

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

When Tony returned to the bullpen, he noticed that Gibbs had left without taking Ziva or Tim. "Where did he go this time?" he asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

Ziva smiled. "He took lunch up to the Director."

"Mmm-hmm."

"What do you mean by that?" Tim demanded. He was getting tired of being the last one to know when trysts occurred between his colleagues.

"Nothing, Probie."

"He means," said Ziva, glancing sideways at Tony while moving to sit on Tim's desk, "that he thinks they're having a – what do you call it again? – a lunchie, no a noonie, no that's not right –"

"A nooner, Ziva," Tony interrupted. "And yes, that's what I think, and so do you, or you wouldn't have told me where he went in that kind of voice."

"Who, me?" She attempted to look innocent but failed utterly. "Tony, you've corrected me."

"It's corrupted, and no I haven't, miss 'I read GSM in Hebrew on the plane.'"

"Did you really, Ziva?" asked Tim with a smile.

"Yes, but unlike Tony, I actually _read_ it instead of drooling over the pictures." She leaned into McGee's personal space. "Why don't we talk to Cynthia later?"

"Uh, I don't think she's up there – she told me she had a doctor appointment this afternoon."

"Oho!" Tony said loudly, garnering the attention of nearby agents.

"Shut up!" Ziva hissed. "Neither one of them will like it if they find out we've been gossiping about them."

"Yeah, well – um – you're right Ziva." Tony appeared humbled and perhaps a little scared as he pulled up a file and began to type furiously.

* * *

Upstairs, the door to Director Shepard's office was locked, a fact that would have intrigued the agents had they known. Inside, Gibbs and Jenny were just naked enough to do exactly what Tony thought they were doing.

"I'm so glad this happened," Jenny murmured, resting her head on his shoulder as they relaxed after taking their pleasure.

"Hmm. And here I thought you only wanted to spend your time being the lady Director," he said, kissing her forehead.

"At first I did," she admitted, leaning back to look in his eyes. "But the truth is, I never stopped loving you, Jethro. I fought it by being very formal, but that didn't change anything that I felt."

He caressed her cheek gently, then pulled her up a bit so he could reach her lips with his. Their kisses were now calmer, more languid, but still deep and satisfying.

She noted that he had easily avoided giving a reply to her declaration of love, but that wasn't surprising. If he _had_ said it, she wouldn't have believed him, not at this point. It would be awhile before he let go of his feelings for Abby, and allowed himself to feel love for Jenny. _'If he will at all,'_ she thought. Well, she wasn't going to send him away this time, she resolved. Better to stick around and give him a chance.

She broke the kiss and sighed, letting her head fall back against the couch. "Jethro," she began.

"Jenny," he responded with a half-smile.

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Wouldn't you rather be in your own bed, in your own house, a house that is a lot nicer than mine and isn't full of sawdust?"

She laughed. "Yes, I would. But you're forgetting the most important thing and it isn't at my house. It's at yours. It's you."

He hesitated. "You want me to come over?"

"I don't care either way; I just want to be with you tonight," she said emphatically.

"Is that an order, Director?" he asked, trying to look solemn.

"No, but it would be really nice of you," she smiled.

"I'm not a nice person, Jen, I'm a bastard. So everyone says."

"True, but even bastards can be nice sometimes. I have faith in you, Jethro." She struggled to sit up. "Now, about that take-away you brought…"

* * *

Ducky was humming to himself – the old standard "The Very Thought of You" – as he cleaned up and put away items in autopsy, preparing to go home with Abby. He realized that Jimmy was standing beside a table, staring at him while he moved about, so he stopped moving.

"Mr. Palmer! Is there a reason you're staring at me?" he asked, trying to sound stern instead of amused.

"Uh, no, Doctor, I just – well, I heard Agent DiNozzo talking to Officer David, and – and I wondered if what they said was true."

Ducky smiled. "If they said I'm in love, then it was true."

"With Abby?"

"Yes, with Abby."

"And you want to have a –"

" – baby," Ducky finished. "Yes, that's true too, Jimmy."

The younger man's eyes were wide with surprise, and he was smiling. "Well, then, I hope you have good luck with that, Doctor. I don't think there's anyone at NCIS who doesn't love Abby." He paused, then added hastily, "And people like you too, Doctor."

"Thank you, Mr. Palmer, but my ego is just fine," Ducky replied, with a little chuckle. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going upstairs to get my little lotus blossom and take her home."

Palmer watched him don his coat and hat, then as he left autopsy, still humming.

"I hope I get that lucky," he said with a sigh.


	15. Chapter 15

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 15

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

That evening, Mrs. Mallard was unusually lucid, so her son decided to tell her about his and Abby's plans.

"Mother, do you remember going to work with me a while back?"

"No, I don't think so, Donald – wait, was that when I saw our housekeeper lying on a metal table?"

"No, Mother," Ducky said, half annoyed and the other half amused. "Well, actually that was the time I'm referring to, but it wasn't our housekeeper."

"Who was it then?"

"Never mind, that's not important. You stayed with Abby in her lab while I was working, remember?"

Abby, who lay beside him on the couch with her head in his lap, looked up. "You played with my stuffed hippopotamus, Bert."

The old woman looked confused for a moment, then her expression cleared and she smiled. "Yes, my dear, I do remember – and then you came in Donald, and I asked you if you had slept with her!"

Ducky and Abby looked at each other just as they had done then, but this time Abby leaned up and kissed him, wrapping her arms around him. To her surprise, Victoria was still watching them and she understood what was going on.

"Should I take that as a 'yes,' Donald?" she asked, amused.

He tried not to react, but considering it was his mother talking to him, he couldn't help blushing slightly. "Yes you can, Mother. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Abby and I have decided to have a baby."

"Oh, that's wonderful! I am so happy, Donald! It took a lot of waiting but you finally came to your senses. What took you so long, anyway?" she demanded.

"I was waiting for the right woman to come along," he replied simply, eliciting another kiss from Abby.

"I'm glad I'm the one," she said, leaning on his shoulder and turning to look at Victoria.

"Are you pregnant?" Mrs. Mallard asked bluntly.

Abby laughed. "Not quite yet, but hopefully soon."

"It hasn't been your time?"

"Right." Abby was delighted that they were having such a good conversation.

"Are you married? Did I miss the wedding?"

Abby turned to face Ducky again, a quizzical expression on her face. Ducky responded to the question himself, his eyes locked with Abby's.

"We're not married yet, but hopefully soon."

"Young lady, do you love my son?"

Although she was again surprised at the question, Abby knew she could answer this one. "Yes, Mrs. Mallard," she said, unable to keep from smiling. "Very, very much."

"Well then, I approve. Now Donald, I am ready to go to bed."

"Yes, Mother." Unwillingly he let go of Abby and stood up, but before he left to help Victoria with her nightly routine, he added under his breath, "So am I, Abby."

She laughed and blew him a kiss. "I'll be upstairs. Waiting."

"I won't keep you waiting long."

* * *

About 20 minutes later Ducky entered their room and was surprised to find it dark, with only one small light on in the bathroom. "Abby?"

"Here, Ducky. I'm in bed."

"Oh, I see. No, I don't see _you_, but I understand."

She giggled a bit. "If you want to see me, turn on the light."

He did so and was intrigued to see that she was, indeed, under the covers but her shoulders appeared to be bare. "Are you wearing any clothes, Abby? I hope you're not," he added, with a half-smile.

"Then you're in luck, because I'm as bare as a corpse on your autopsy table."

He shuddered involuntarily. "That is not an image I want to think about, Abigail."

"How about another image, then?" She threw off the covers.

"Hmm, yes, that one is much better." For a long moment he gazed at her naked body, debating with himself whether to join her right away or to complete his own bedtime routine first. The longer he looked the harder he grew, so the question soon answered itself. He turned the light off again, then walked towards the bed, taking off clothes as he went. "I hope you're ready for me, Abby."

"Ducky, I've been ready since the moment I woke up this morning," she responded fervently. "Hurry up and fuck me or I may start without you."

Just then she felt the bed move beside her, and the warmth of his body stretched over hers. "Abby," he murmured, just before finding her mouth with his and plundering it with his tongue. She moaned in response and moved to turn him over so that she was on top. "God, you're sexy," she whispered, pressing her core against his hardness and sliding up and down just a bit.

He groaned, "Abby, you'll be the death of me."

"I hope not," she laughed. "I need you to hold my hand when I'm screaming in labor."

"I have to get you pregnant first," he pointed out.

"Maybe tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, maybe – but probably not. So let's just have fun, shall we?"

"Indeed," he agreed as he slid inside her. She moved over him, first slowly then more vigorously, while kissing his neck and chest.

"Ducky," she moaned.

"Yes… yes," he murmured, feeling the pleasure rising inside him. He knew she was feeling it, too, as she grew tighter around him. Her clit was so swollen and firm he could feel it as it rubbed moistly against his skin. She moved faster and he clutched her ass, pushing his hips against hers in time with her movements.

Abby was breathing hard but she managed to pant, "Almost, Ducky –"

"Me too, my darling –" He was interrupted as she began to spasm around him, kissing him voraciously as if she couldn't get enough of him, groaning into his mouth. He responded likewise, jerking against her with the intense pleasure of orgasm.

When he relaxed she was still twitching, and he realized she might have another go in her. Reaching between them he caressed her gently, then with more force as he could tell she was on her way up again. Shortly thereafter she cried out, almost sounding in pain but he knew better. He held her close and kissed her face as her breathing slowly came back to normal and her movements stilled. "I love you, Abby, so much."

"I love you, Ducky," she replied, her voice cracking a bit. "Please stay with me forever," she said longingly, laying her head against his shoulder so that he felt the moisture dripping from her eyes.

"My dear," he told her gently, "There is no other place I would rather be."

* * *

Two weeks later, Abby and Ducky had a consultation with the fertility specialist who was a friend of a friend. As they sat holding hands in the doctor's office, Ducky explained their plans. "And we were wondering," he finished, "what advice you could give us regarding the best way to achieve success."

Dr. Phan studied each of them for a moment. He could see the eagerness on their faces, as well as the deep love they had for each other. "Well, Dr. Mallard –"

"Ducky, please."

"Ducky, then, and Ms. –" a shake of Abby's head made him stop and glance at their paperwork. " – and Abby, would you like us to do some tests?"

Abby spoke this time. "No, we want to give it a try first and see what happens."

"I see." There was a pause, then Dr. Phan asked, "Abby, could you give us a few minutes?"

She raised her head quickly, startled at the request. "Ummm…. yeah." She gave Ducky's hand a quick squeeze before leaving the office.

The door had just closed when Ducky demanded, "What was that about?"

"I wanted to ask you some questions that I didn't think Abby needed to hear."

"Oh. Go on."

"How is your health?"

Understanding began to grow on his face. "Quite good, actually. I do have some symptoms of heart disease –"

"Not surprising at your age."

"Yes. But only a minimal family history of heart attacks or strokes. Are you going to tell me that I shouldn't have a baby with Abby because she is young and I could die at any time?" It was obvious that was not something Ducky wanted to hear.

"No, not at all. I can see that you truly love each other, and I think it is unlikely you will die anytime soon, given what you just told me. However, it may take some time for Abby to become pregnant. I _am_ concerned that you could die before that happens."

"I see." Ducky pondered the doctor's words. "Like you, I do not think it will happen, but it's not impossible. What do you suggest?"

"Perhaps a sperm donation? Or more than one, if there is any question about your count, as we could combine them if needed to increase the chances. That way, if something did happen, Abby could still have your child."

Ducky suddenly felt moisture gathering in his eyes, but he tried to ignore it when he answered, "Yes, I believe that's a good idea."

"When would you like to take care of that?"

"Would now be acceptable?" Ducky asked with a hint of amusement.

"Yes. I'll check to see if we have a room available. In the meantime I can talk to Abby –"

"Actually, I'd like to have Abby's help."

Dr. Phan smiled. "Certainly, Ducky. Let's ask her back in and then we will set you up in a room."

Abby was surprised, but definitely agreeable. It was obvious that she was also touched by the idea. "I _don't_ want to lose you, Ducky," she said as they walked down the corridor, "so don't consider this as permission to die."

The nurse opened the door to a small room and handed Ducky a specimen container. "Take your time," he told them with a smile.

Abby was smiling too, and when the door closed she asked, "How do you want to do this, Ducky?"

"My dear, I don't want this to be very different from any other time we've made love. I want you to have a wonderful memory to think of if you need to make use of it."

"That's so sweet my – my darling." Abby wasn't used to saying little endearments the way he was, but she definitely felt them. With a slight hesitation, she moved closer to him, and he took her in his arms. She lowered her lips to his and was surprised (though quite willing) when he began to kiss her passionately.


	16. Chapter 16

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 16

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Several weeks later, Ducky and Abby were walking downstairs to leave for work when Abby suddenly stopped and leaned against the banister, a pained expression on her face.

Ducky glanced back to see why she had stopped. Alarmed by her unsteadiness, he quickly set down his bags and grasped her shoulders. "Abby, you're white as the cliffs of Dover. What is it?"

"I just – feel faint, Ducky," she panted. She began to sink to the step, and he held her firmly until she was sitting solidly. And then he held her some more.

"Are you ill?" he asked.

She shook her head, prompting another wave of dizziness which caused her to fall against him. Ducky was concerned that this was a long-term effect of the concussion. "Let me help you downstairs, where you can lie down," he suggested. In a few moments she had caught her breath and he half-carried her the rest of the way down the staircase.

"Here we are," Ducky said, helping her to a couch and encouraging her to lie down. She still looked pale, and tiny beads of sweat covered her forehead, but at least she was breathing better. He waited, holding both of her hands, until the color began to return to her cheeks. "Abigail, are you alright?" he asked, his tone almost begging for a positive answer.

"Yes," she said, albeit weakly. "I don't know what happened, Ducky; I just suddenly felt faint and dizzy. I'm glad you were there to catch me."

"So am I, my darling. I wouldn't want anything to harm my lovely Abby."

She tried to sit up, but didn't quite make it on the first try. By the second try she was feeling much better and was able to sit normally. "I don't think it's anything to worry about, Ducky. I'm fine now. We should get to work."

They didn't say much on the ride to NCIS; Abby appeared preoccupied by her own thoughts, while Ducky continued to think about the earlier incident. He hoped it was just a one-time problem, because if it was repeated she could easily get seriously hurt.

When they reached work, Ducky walked with her to the lab and gave her a quick kiss. "Keep me informed, my dear," he said quietly.

When he was gone, Abby began to smile broadly, because she knew something he didn't. She had been intentionally vague with Ducky about the length of her cycle and other details, because she didn't want him to know exactly when her period should arrive. As a result, she was the only person who knew it was a week late already.

Was fainting a symptom of pregnancy? She had to look it up to be sure, and was pleased to find that it was indeed. She checked the other symptoms – were her breasts tender or enlarged? They were a little tender. Was she having nausea and vomiting? Well, she had felt a bit nauseous when she woke that morning, so she gave that one a partial 'yes'. What about frequent urination? Yeah, now that she thought about it, that was also true. She raced through the other ones, gathering a few more positives, then she knew what she had to do next. It was time for Abigail Sciuto to take her first pregnancy test.

Meanwhile, someone else at NCIS was feeling very ill and wondering what it meant. Jenny had missed two cycles but, since she had been irregular over the past year or so, she wasn't sure if it was caused by menopause or (gasp!) pregnancy. She desperately hoped that she was not pregnant, fearing that Jethro wouldn't like it if she was. She still felt that their relationship was still precarious, with that "rebound" feeling always there, making her wonder if he really thought of her when they were together, or if a third person – Abby – still hung around.

She leaned over the toilet in her private bathroom and retched again, thankful that it was private and therefore (she thought) no one knew she had been getting sick on a daily basis. She knew she had to find out – as discreetly as possible. Under ordinary circumstances she would have asked Ducky or someone else at NCIS to give her the test, but she didn't think it wise this time. Instead, she called her gynecologist. "I need to see Dr. Brannon as soon as possible," she told Karen, the receptionist. "It's not an emergency, but it's urgent. Do you have anything?"

"We just had a cancellation for 10:30. Will that work?"

Jenny felt her tense muscles relax with a sense of relief. "Yes, that's fine. I'll be there. Thank you." After hanging up the phone, she glanced at the clock. It was 8:45 – an hour and forty-five minutes before her appointment. She looked around at the stacks of papers on her desk, and sighed. "I can't stay here," she murmured. "I'll go crazy."

She grabbed a couple of files so she could work on them while she was gone, then stood carrying her purse in the other hand. She nodded at Cynthia as she walked through the outer office. "I'll be back after lunch," she said, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

"Yes, ma'm," Cynthia said, giving no indication that she thought anything was wrong.

Jenny left the building as quickly as she could.

Abby had never drawn blood from herself before. Technically she should have let Ducky do it, but she didn't want him to think anything until she was sure. So she tied the tourniquet with her teeth and her other hand, then found the perfect vein in her elbow and used a butterfly needle to puncture it. Working quickly she picked up a vacutainer and attached it to the needle. A few seconds later it was full, and she pulled the needle out. She bled a little before she could get the cotton ball in place, but blood didn't upset her.

Not usually, anyway. This time, she felt her head growing dizzy and light as she looked at the blood. She was developing a cold sweat again, the same as earlier, and she instinctively put her head down. This allowed more blood to return to her head, and after a few moments she felt better.

"This is really annoying," she griped as she removed the vacutainer from the needle and prepared it for analysis. Moving slowly to avoid getting light-headed, she placed the sample in the blood analyzer and pushed the buttons that would measure the components of her blood, including the level (if any) of hCG, the hormone that would indicate pregnancy.

While the test was running, she tried to turn her attention elsewhere but it was very difficult. It was especially hard to stay calm when Ducky called to check on her.

"Abby?"

She was startled by his voice. "Oh – uh, yes, Ducky. How are you?"

"I'm fine my dear, but I wanted to make sure that you are alright." She could hear the thinly disguised worry in his voice. "Have you had any more fainting spells?"

"Well – uh, no, not really," she stammered. This was followed by a low groan; it was unlikely he would take that to mean she was okay.

"Abigail, are you hiding something from me?" Ducky asked sternly, but with amusement in his expression.

"Who, me? No, not me." She could feel that her cheeks were hot and wondered if he could see.

"Abby, I'm coming up to check on you," he told her, clicking off the intercom. She sighed – apparently he did see.

She sat down on a stool, wondering how much longer the blood analysis would take. She drummed her fingers on the countertop, feeling more nervous than ever before in her life. The odds were high that she was pregnant, but what if she wasn't? There was time to try again, much more time, but it would be a great disappointment to have symptoms of pregnancy without being pregnant. Especially in this situation.

Her reverie was interrupted by Ducky's voice. "Hello, my dear. I had to see you for myself to make sure you are really alright." He looked her up and down. "Abby, you look pale again, and tired. How do you feel?"

"I feel just fine, Ducky!" she said in her most chipper voice, but he still looked at her doubtfully. Just then the blood analyzer made the sound that indicated it was finished. Abby ignored it, still gazing at Ducky.

"What are you analyzing?" he asked curiously, walking towards the machine. "I don't recall sending up any samples."

She hurried over and snatched the printout from the machine just before he had a chance to grab it. "Abby, what's going on?"

She had to know. She just had to know before he did.

Since the amount of everything else in her blood had been analyzed as well, she had to look closely to find the hCG level. Finally her scanning eyes found it: 27. She felt a rush of adrenaline and a broad smile began to grow on her face. "Here," she said, handing the page to Ducky.

Confused, he looked down at the paper. There was no patient name, just the initials A.S. It didn't occur to him what those initials stood for until he found the elevated hCG level. At last he understood. "Oh, my dearest Abby! Does this mean what I think it does?" He was holding his breath, afraid to breathe until she answered.

Abby nodded. "Yes, Ducky," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him, "I'm pregnant."


	17. Chapter 17

What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 17

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Ducky took a deep breath, holding tight to Abby as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he would soon be a father. It was what they intended; it was what they expected. But he had spent so many years as a bachelor that it was not an easy concept to believe, now that it was actually happening. "Abigail," he murmured. "I'm very happy, my dear."

"Me too," she said against his cheek. She moved back just a bit and captured his lips for a long, slow kiss. It felt so good, even though Abby was becoming light-headed she didn't want to stop, and the kiss lingered. Finally she could feel her knees starting to buckle.

"Ducky, I –"

Realizing what was happening, he held her upright until he could move her to a stool. "Abby, you mustn't fail to get enough oxygen," he admonished her with a little smile. "It's not good for you and not good for our baby."

Her face lit up with a smile when he said that. "Our baby…" she repeated thoughtfully. "It's hard to believe, isn't it?"

"Yes, indeed, but it is also wonderful."

"What's wonderful?" Gibbs' voice intruded on their private celebration.

For a second Abby and Ducky glanced at each other, wondering if they should tell the truth. Then Abby nodded in response to Ducky's questioning expression, and he turned back to Gibbs. "Abby is pregnant, Jethro," he said bluntly.

There was a long pause, but finally Gibbs spoke. "Congratulations. I know that's what you wanted."

"Yes," replied Ducky, feeling a bit flustered, still holding onto her hand. "I –"

"Did you come down for a particular reason, Agent Gibbs?" Abby interrupted.

Again there was a pause, during which he gazed steadily at them. "Do you have any information for me?"

"No, I've been checking cold case files but no additional information yet."

"Are you sure you've been working?" he asked slowly, without looking her in the eyes.

Abby giggled a bit from embarrassment, even though she actually had been working. "Yes, I –"

"Jethro, I must protest your implied accusation," said Ducky _("how sweet, he's taking up for me!" thought Abby_). "You know how hard Abby works. And I was in autopsy until ten minutes ago."

"I just wanted to make sure your relationship isn't affecting your work," Gibbs replied. "Although the fact that Abby's pregnant will definitely affect it."

The tension in the room had grown steadily so that it was now strong enough for all to perceive. "I _asked_ you, Gibbs, remember?" Abby pointed out. "You told me you didn't mind. So you can't go and change your mind now."

Her firm reply stopped him from continuing to criticize. It was obvious that she felt he was out of line, and if he were honest with himself, he would have to agree. "You're right," he said a bit reluctantly. "Keep me posted." With that he left the lab, presumably to go back upstairs.

Ducky sighed. "Now that was a bit uncomfortable."

"Yes, but he knew I was right. I did ask. I know things have changed, but still – he shouldn't be surprised," she said resolutely. "Or critical, either."

Ducky embraced her again, planting kisses on her forehead and cheeks before landing on her lips for one last kiss, intending it to be soft and gentle. But Abby had other plans, and the kiss quickly grew passionate.

He savored every moment, relishing the way Abby gave her full attention when she kissed him. It was as if nothing else existed, nothing else occupied her mind except their closeness. When they finally broke apart, it was with considerable reluctance. Ducky held her hands in his. "You need to see a doctor," he said solemnly.

Abby nodded, still lost in the deep blue of his eyes. She felt as if she were floating, and it wasn't the faintness this time.

Since she didn't reply, he added, "Would you like for me to make an appointment for you? For us, I mean – I want to be with you for everything."

She came back to herself with a start and smiled. "That would be great, Ducky." Unconsciously her right hand traveled back to her lower abdomen, seeking confirmation, as if she could feel the child growing there.

He noticed the placement of her hand, and with a little smile he covered it with his own. "We'll do this together, Abigail."

"I love you, Ducky," she whispered.

His reply was fervent. "And I love you, Abby."

On the other side of D.C., Jenny Shepard waited anxiously for the results of her pregnancy test. Dr. Wilson, her gynecologist, had said they would do a simple urine test first, then an ultrasound if there was any doubt. Jenny just nodded; she had no idea what to say, no idea what to think or feel at this point. Did she want a child? Did she want a child with Jethro? What did he want? Would he reject her and the baby (if there was one)? What if it turned out to be a girl, how would he feel?

Questions whirled through her mind and she could not make herself focus, not even enough to read a magazine. She placed a hand against her forehead and sighed. Her head ached and so did her back. Was her skirt a little tighter than usual? Surely she couldn't be showing already. It was way too –

"Ms. Shepard?" The nurse's voice interrupted her thoughts, and from the tone of it, this wasn't the first time she'd called Jenny's name. She stood and walked almost mindlessly through the waiting room door and into an exam room, wondering if she could stand to wait any longer.

Fortunately she didn't have to find out. The door had barely closed when she heard a knock. "Ms. Shepard?" Dr. Wilson opened the door and came into the room, along with her assistant.

"Please, call me Jenny," she said weakly. Her anxiety was so high she could hardly find her breath to speak.

"Yes, Jenny." Dr. Wilson smiled brightly. "Your pregnancy test was positive," she said. "I'd like to do the ultrasound, if you consent, since due to your age you are considered high-risk."

Jenny was in shock – hearing it said aloud made it real, and she had no idea how to cope with the reality of carrying Jethro's child. "Er – um, yes, of course."

"Good. Lie back, please." Jenny did so, automatically beginning to scoot forward as was required for a pelvic exam. But Dr. Wilson shook her head. "Just lie on the exam couch for now. We probably won't do a complete exam today."

"Oh." Jenny tried to relax, but it was difficult to do so when her clothing was pushed aside and her lower abdomen was covered with cold gel. Her teeth chattered a bit, and the nurse assured her that it would get warmer soon.

The doctor began to slide the probe across her skin. It tickled a little and she couldn't help but smile, in spite of everything. Dr. Wilson was watching a viewscreen that Jenny couldn't really see, but at least the doctor's facial expression seemed positive. After a few moments, though, Jenny became impatient. "What do you see? Was the test correct?"

"Yes, you are definitely pregnant," Wilson confirmed. "Approximately three months, according to the measurements. Would you like to see the pictures? The baby is still small, but I can enlarge the picture so you can see the developing parts."

"Yes, please," she replied eagerly. _"Eagerly?"_ she asked herself in surprise. Then she realized that a part of her was actually happy that she was pregnant! With a growing sense of wonder she took the printouts the nurse held out and examined them intently. Dr. Wilson had marked the head, spine, and one foot on the bean-shaped creature, and she marveled at the idea that this small life form inside her would eventually be a baby that she could hold and nurse.

"—_high-risk."_ The words echoed in her mind, and she felt a sudden fear. "What did you mean by 'high risk'?" she asked.

Dr. Wilson, having finished the scan, was making notes while the nurse wiped the gel away. "Jenny, a women who is pregnant past 40 – especially a first-time pregnancy – is at greater risk of complications. This applies to you as well as the baby. We will monitor you more closely than a 25-year-old, for example, and if there is any danger we will take immediate action."

"What kind of action?" Jenny was obviously alarmed.

"Don't be too worried. Even high-risk pregnancies generally go fine. But if needed I may put you on bed rest, give medications, hospitalize you, or whatever seems necessary to keep both you and your baby healthy."

When she finally left the doctor's office, Jenny had several pamphlets and a large booklet with information about various aspects of pregnancy, as well as a prescription for prenatal vitamins and an order for lab work. In spite of the fear and apprehension she felt, there was still a smile on her face.

The rest of the afternoon went by slowly, and Abby considered asking to go home early. However, she wasn't really enthusiastic about asking Gibbs for anything right then, so she chose to remain in the lab, looking up maternity and baby clothes on the Internet.

Almost two weeks later, she awoke suddenly to an achy cramping in her pelvis and a feeling of wetness between her legs. She sat up straight, which made the pain worse, but she just had to see. In the light from the street lamps, she could see a dull reddish-black stain forming on her nightgown.

"Ducky!" she cried, unable to contain the tears. "Ducky, wake up! I need to go to the hospital."

He slowly opened his eyes and raised himself on one elbow. "What is it, Abby?"

She couldn't speak anymore, the tears were coming so quickly. Instead, she held her abdomen with one hand and pointed at the stain with the other.

Ducky understood, and shifted quickly into 'doctor' mode. "I'll call an ambulance, it will be faster. Lie back down, my dear, and try to relax."

Abby complied with the first part, but she was too afraid to even think of relaxing. Was she losing their precious baby?


	18. Chapter 18

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 18

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Two weeks had passed since the NCIS Director learned that she was pregnant. She had spent most of each day preoccupied by thinking about the baby. An abortion – without telling Gibbs anything – was one possible action. The whole problem would be gone quickly and no one had to know; she could continue her life as it had been.

On the other hand – could she really go on as if nothing had happened? Now that there was the possibility of a child, a part of her desperately wanted it no matter what Jethro had to say. She knew several professional women who had children on their own, so she was sure it was manageable. But which did she want?

It was still on her mind as she wearily climbed the steps to her office. She felt so tired all the time…

Below, Ziva David watched her old friend with eyes that had been trained for espionage. Perhaps no one else had noticed the small "baby bump" that Jenny was developing, but Ziva did. She also noticed the fatigue and the frequent "illnesses" that often ended up with the Director arriving at work late. Each day for the last week she had wondered if she should confront Jenny; each time she had decided against it. She had hoped that Gibbs would notice and talk to Jenny himself, but he seemed oblivious.

"_I'm tired of waiting for him to get his head out of his ass_," she thought grimly. With determination, she climbed the steps, ignoring Tony's questions about where she was going. When she reached the office, she said 'hi' to Cynthia and let herself in just as Gibbs always did.

Jenny turned from the window. "Je –" She stopped when she saw it was not him, and looked at Ziva with surprise.

"I assume you were expecting Agent Gibbs," Ziva said, taking a seat and looking the Director over from head to toe.

Jenny could feel from Ziva's gaze that she knew. _"Someone had to find out eventually,"_ she thought. "Ziva," she said expectantly as she sat down at her desk.

"How long?" Ziva didn't need to be complex about it; she and Jenny had developed such a closeness during their work together that they could often finish one another's sentences.

"Three and a half months."

"Gibbs?"

"Yes, of course," Jenny replied with a sigh. "He doesn't know yet," she added, anticipating the next question.

"Hmm."

There was a pause, during which Jenny avoided eye contact with Ziva.

"You're not sure if you want to have the baby," said Ziva. It was not a question.

Jenny nodded. "Yes I do, in the pure sense of wanting a baby. The problem is the circumstances. I don't want anyone to be hurt – not anyone else and definitely not myself or my baby."

"You surprise me."

Smiling slightly, she replied, "Kinda' surprised me too, actually. I've always been dead set against having children, but now – now I'm not so sure." Ziva could see that she was troubled.

Ziva slowly stood up, walked to the other side of the desk, and sat on the edge. "I will take care of you," she said softly, brushing a bit of hair from Jenny's face. "You do not need to worry about being alone."

Jenny averted her eyes, embarrassed by the vulnerability she was showing, even though the only audience was Ziva. "Thank you." She looked up and her friend enfolded her in a hug.

"You're very welcome."

During the ambulance ride, Abby lost consciousness when her blood pressure dropped precipitously. "She's in hypovolemic shock," Ducky told the EMT's, quite unnecessarily. They nodded, and one said, "You must be a doctor," while the other started Abby on IV fluids.

"Yes – well, a medical examiner, but I've tried to keep up my general medical skills – you see, I work for NCIS, and Abby does too, she's our forensic scientist and we can't do – we can't do without –" Ducky's voice began to break, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep from crying.

The two EMT's looked at him sympathetically. "She is beginning to stabilize," one said, "although the bleeding hasn't stopped yet, the fluids are helping and her blood pressure is rising."

"We're almost there," said the other.

The ambulance stopped and Abby was rushed into the ER. With Ducky's information, the primary doctor quickly ascertained that the problem was a miscarriage, so he contacted the on-call OB/GYN. It only took the specialist 15 minutes to arrive, but to Ducky it seemed like eternity.

Finally, Abby was examined again (she was still unconscious), with Ducky hovering around as much as he could – wanting to know every bit of information, or even speculations. At one point a nurse asked him to move away, but he used every bit of his ability to intimidate in order to get her to leave him alone.

The exam didn't take long, however; quite soon they were prepping her for surgery to stop the bleeding. Ducky didn't even bother to ask, he just started to scrub in with the other doctors and nurses. Madison, the OB surgeon, glanced at him and spoke quietly to the anesthesiologist, "What do you think? Father, grandfather?"

Ducky smiled a bit to himself. "Father… of the baby," he clarified. There was a slight pause in the process of scrubbing while everyone considered his statement.

Finally Madison said briskly, "Let's save this patient."

When she first began to rise back to consciousness, Abby wasn't sure whether or not she was awake because she could hear voices regardless, and one of them sounded like Ducky. She had tried to speak to him, but could not hear her own voice. The place sounded and smelled like a hospital, but just like the concussion a few weeks prior, her memory of why she was in the hospital had vanished.

Ducky was sitting beside her bed, of course, hoping for some sign to indicate that the Abby he knew was still inside. He spoke to her frequently while she remained unconscious, in hopes that she would hear him and come back to him. It was difficult enough to bear the loss of their baby – if he lost Abby as well – he couldn't even think of it.

So he sat and watched her hour after over the course of 2 ½ days, and when she finally began to waken, he noticed the first sign: twitching of the fingers on her right hand. He touched her wrist gently. "Abby? Are you awake?"

She turned her head to the side and back again. "I think," she began, followed by a long pause during which Ducky thought she was no longer awake. But she surprised him. "I think yes," she said. The words were a bit distorted, as if her tongue were too big for her mouth.

"Can you open your eyes, my dear?"

"Don' know," she replied. At that moment something clicked in her brain, and she did open her eyes quite suddenly, trying to sit up as well. "Ducky – the baby?" She felt the loss deep inside her, knew that the baby was no longer growing, but she was hoping that he could reassure her that it wasn't true.

He hesitated, unsure whether to tell her the truth now or wait until she was stronger. But when he looked into her green eyes he knew he must be honest. "We lost the baby, Abigail."

She covered her face with her hands, as if to shut out the knowledge. "No," she whispered.

"I'm afraid so," Ducky said, the misery evident in his voice.

Abby lowered her hands in response to his emotions. "I'm sorry, Ducky," she said fervently.

"So am I, my dearest. But we mustn't cast blame, not even on ourselves. We will grieve the loss, and perhaps afterward we will try again.

"Ducky, I don't know if –" Abby burst into tears, "I don't know – if I – can handle this," she cried.

"Do you want to change your mind?" He did his best to keep his voice neutral.

"No! No, that's not what I mean. I'm just afraid. I'm afraid of my own emotions; I'm afraid of hurting you. I'm afraid I might not be able to stand the stress."

He looked at her steadily. "Only a fool would not feel fear, Abby. I am afraid, too. I was especially afraid when they were trying to stop the bleeding and couldn't. I thought I would lose you as well. And I don't know how I could stand that."

For a moment they simply looked at one another, saying all they needed to say wordlessly, through their eyes. Then Abby whispered, "Can you give me a hug?"

Ducky smiled. "My pleasure.".


	19. Chapter 19

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 19

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Abby wasn't allowed to have any visitors besides Ducky until late that evening. He was surprised when her first visitor turned out to be Jenny, who arrived carrying a small box. Abby appeared to be asleep, so Jenny whispered to Ducky, "Should I come back later?

"No, you're fine," Abby answered, her voice slow and languid. She opened her eyes. "Director! I didn't really expect you to visit."

"Why not?" Jenny asked, even though she knew very well why not. "Ducky, can I talk to Abby for a few minutes alone?" Although she smiled, he could see that the smile only half-covered her pain. He wasn't sure where the pain came from but he had a fairly good idea.

"Of course, Director." To Abby he said, "I'll be right outside, my dear."

Jenny sat on the chair Ducky had vacated, the one closest to the bed. "Abby, I have to tell you something. And I brought you a present. Which would you like first?"

She turned her head and looked at Jenny for several moments, searching for information but finding none. "Tell me whatever it is first."

Jenny took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

Abby stared, wide-eyed, unable to believe what she had just heard. "Really?" she asked in a doubtful voice. "How is that?"

"Gibbs," Jenny said shortly, knowing that Abby would understand. Indeed, she did, because when Gibbs' name was mentioned she gasped, then let out air in a soundless 'oh.' "He doesn't know. Nor does anyone else except Ziva, and now you."

"Why are you telling me this?" Abby demanded, disturbed by a sudden turmoil in her gut. "Are you here to brag, because your baby is fine and mine died? Do you want to flaunt your relationship with Gibbs, make me feel bad for turning away from him? Surely you know, _Director_, that I made my choice knowingly. I'm glad he's with you." Jenny tried to interject something, but Abby continued. "You are good for him, better than I would have been."

"Abby –" Jenny tried again.

"I love Ducky, and he loves me. I am happier than I ever would have been with Gibbs. If only –" At that point, she broke down and cried, more than she had ever allowed Ducky to see. Even now she tried to quiet her anguished sobs, since she knew he was just outside.

After a brief hesitation, Jenny laid her hand gently on Abby's arm and spoke softly, "It's okay, Abby. I didn't come here to rub it in, nor did I come to make you feel bad about Gibbs. I came to you for advice."

Tears still ran down Abby's cheeks, but she looked up. "My advice? Me? Why?"

"Because you know Jethro better than I do at this point. We were apart for six years, you know, and during that time we lost the intimacy that was so comfortable and familiar. We haven't returned to that same level since I've been at NCIS – at least, not emotionally." She sighed. "I'm not sure it is me he thinks of when we are together. I think I may be a stand-in."

"Oh." Abby looked down, unsure of what to say. "He hasn't said anything to me to make me think he doesn't really like you." She pondered, then added, "Actually he doesn't talk to me at all except when he has to, like when it's related to a case."

"He doesn't talk to me very much, either," Jenny confessed.

"So why do you need my advice?" Abby asked, impatiently.

"I don't know how to tell him, or if I should tell him. He doesn't have to know; I could take care of it easily. What if he shuts me out? What if he runs away? Am I setting myself up for a broken heart?"

Abby said nothing for a time, merely stared off into space. Then she shook herself and turned back to Jenny. "He may shut you out. He may run away. But it will only be temporary, if he does." She hesitated for a moment. "Has he told you about his first wife? I don't mean the one he divorced first. I mean the one who died."

Jenny's face showed her astonishment. "What? No, he hasn't told me. I thought we shared everything when we were in Europe. I can't believe he didn't tell me that – I bared my soul to him." Then, a little resentfully, "Why did he tell _you_, anyway?"

"I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I promised I would never tell anyone, but I didn't imagine something like this would happen. See, I think he would be happy to have a child, because his first wife and his daughter were killed when he was in Kuwait."

"A daughter?" Jenny asked weakly.

"Yes, her name was Kelly. He's never stopped missing them and blaming himself for their deaths. But perhaps this is what he needs to move past the old wounds – not to say that this child would replace Kelly in his heart. But it would definitely make living easier for him. He might not realize it right away – that's why I said he might run from you – but there is no way he would abandon his child by choice. Not when he's had time to think it over."

Jenny patted Abby's arm again and smiled. She looked totally different from the despairing woman who had walked in a few minutes earlier. "Thank you, Abby," she murmured, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. Then she turned to leave.

"Wait! Did you forget about my present?"

Jenny stopped and turned around; the small box was still in her hand. "I guess I did. Sorry about that."

Abby took the small box and began to open it, her hands trembling just little. When she finally took out the gift, she began to cry again, and almost dropped the fragile object. "This is so beautiful," she said through her tears. It was a small figurine that depicted two hands holding a tiny fetus, still in the amniotic sac.

Abby motioned Jenny to come closer, then wrapped an arm around her waist. "Thank you, thank you, it's perfect." She stopped to sniff and dry her eyes. "I will always treasure this – it will remind me of my first little baby." She set the figurine on the cabinet beside the bed, then collapsed against the pillows, feeling emotionally exhausted.

"Good night, Abby. Should I send Ducky back in?"

"Yes, please," Abby said softly. "Thank you again."

"No," Jenny replied, "I thank you."

Ducky watched silently as the Director left Abby's room, motioning him back inside. He nodded as he passed her and went back into the room. He was surprised to see how tired Abby looked.

"My dearest, what is the matter?" he asked, moving quickly to her bedside.

"I'm just sad, Ducky," she said, feeling the tears that returned to sting her eyes. She pointed to the figurine Jenny had brought.

Ducky looked at it and was overwhelmed by the grief that came over him. He had not allowed Abby to see him crying, either, thinking that it would just make her more unhappy. But now he couldn't hold the tears back. "I'm so sorry," he managed to say in between fits of noiseless crying.

"Don't be sorry, Ducky," she said softly, taking his hands in hers. "Crying is not a bad thing."

"I know, my dear, but I –"

"You're not making me feel worse," she interjected. "It's better for both of us if we feel it together. I'm glad you're sharing those feelings with me."

He was unable to respond with words, so he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, almost desperately, while they both cried. Finally the tears diminished, and he let go of her long enough to get each of them a tissue. Then he hugged her again and gently kissed her.

"Ducky?"

"Yes, Abby?"

"Did the doctor say when we could try again?"

He nodded. "You are to have a full cycle before we try again, to give your womb a chance to rest."

"Oh. Well, that's not so bad." He could see that her eyes were closing and she was beginning to feel heavy against his shoulder. "Ducky?" she asked again.

"Yes?"

"Will you hold me until I fall asleep?"

Ducky felt an odd mixture of satisfaction and despair. He couldn't be totally unhappy if Abby loved him, and she obviously did. "Shh," he whispered, "relax. You're safe now."


	20. Chapter 20

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 20

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Two days later, Abby was deemed well enough to go home. She and Ducky had begun grief counseling while she was still in the hospital; they would continue for several weeks on an outpatient basis.

When they reached his home in Reston, she didn't need to say anything for him to know where she was going. She dragged herself up the stairs to the second floor, kicked off her shoes, and curled up on the bed. She was asleep in 5 seconds.

A few minutes later Ducky came up with the bags; he smiled a bit when he saw her sleeping. He set everything down in a corner of the room, took off his jacket and shoes, and carefully laid down facing her. He just wanted to watch her sleep, but soon his eyelids grew heavy – after all, he had been losing sleep for several days – and when another minute had passed, he joined Abby in slumber.

Jenny was waiting for the right time to talk to Gibbs. As a result, she appeared to be chronically on edge, as if the anxiety would overcome her at any moment. Ziva encouraged her but it was not enough; she needed to tell him, and she needed to do it soon before she lost her mind.

Two days after she talked to Abby, the situation reached the breaking point: Gibbs had finally noticed what was right underneath his nose all along. She was walking up the steps to her office and he was watching when something clicked into place in his mind. He took the steps two at a time and caught up with her in time to enter the office just before she did. He stood in front of her desk, just looking.

"Something I can do for you, Agent Gibbs?" she asked without looking up from the papers on the desk.

"Jen," he said softly.

"What?" she asked absently. She was trying to hide everything she thought he didn't know. She didn't know why it needed to be hidden, but nevertheless she was trying not to show emotion.

"Jen, I know you're pregnant," he said bluntly.

She raised her head abruptly. "What makes you think that?" she demanded. "Did someone tell you that?"

"No. I may be blind about certain things, but even so I usually figure them out eventually. You're showing several signs of pregnancy, and on top of that you're as tense as a tightly wound spring. So tell me the truth – is it mine?"

"Of course it is, Jethro," she replied angrily. "What do you think I've been doing, sleeping with half the men at NCIS? You of all people should know I wouldn't do that. I'm a one-man woman. And at present you're the one man."

He smiled a bit at her anger. He had always thought she was sexiest when she was angry. "Didn't mean to put down your character. So why are you so tense?" It seemed to Gibbs that she grew rigid and even more nervous after the question, so much so that he wondered if she would be able to answer.

She looked down at her desk – the office door – anywhere but him. After awhile she relaxed a little, just barely enough to tell him what was going on. She explained that she was afraid of his reaction, that he might not be able to cope, that he would be angry with her and leave. As she spoke, she could see the softening of his gaze, showing the tender part of him that he had kept hidden so long. Her voice trailed off as she realized he wasn't going to do any of the things she feared.

He was smiling, so she did as well. Then he stood up and said, "C'mere."

She did so, looking at him the whole time. When she reached him, he embraced her tightly and kissed her forehead. "I love you, Jen," he whispered.

Finally, she could believe what he said.

The next day Ducky went back to work, although Abby had to stay home for a few more days. "This really sucks," she complained while they ate breakfast.

"It's for your own good, Abby."

She groaned. "Why is it that anything 'for your own good' is unpleasant? It's not fair."

"No, it isn't, my dear," he replied, patting her hand. He took a sip of tea and noticed she had not eaten much of her breakfast. "Aren't you hungry this morning?"

She glanced down at her plate. "No, not really. But I guess I need to eat more, don't I? It's not just for my own good, it's for our future baby also."

"Indeed," he agreed, smiling. "Tell me what you like best and I'll make those items more often."

"Ducky, you shouldn't be stuck with all the cooking," she fretted.

"I did it before, why not now? If you want to help you may, or if you want to cook something of your own, you are always free to do so. But don't worry about being a burden; I'm simply doing what I did before you moved in."

She ate automatically for several seconds, her eyes unfocused as she stared into space. After several bites, she said, "I haven't actually moved in yet, Ducky."

"What?" Ducky asked, surprised. "Oh, I see what you mean. Would you like to move in with me?"

She had to smile at that. "Do I? That has to be the most rhetorical question ever asked. Of course I do! Then we won't have to get clothes for me once a week."

He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. "Is that the only reason, my dear?"

"Yeah, it's purely practical…" She tried not to laugh (he was tickling her) but finally gave up. "Okay, it's not," she said, laughing so hard she almost couldn't catch her breath. Suddenly she became sober, catching him off guard with her soft voice. "Ducky, you know I love you, and I wouldn't want to live anywhere but here." She glanced quickly at the clock. "You'd better hurry, sweetheart, or you'll be late to work."

"Forget work," he murmured, then kissed her gently. It lasted a long time because neither wanted it to end. Ducky finally broke the kiss with a look of longing. "I must leave, Abby," he said with resignation. "I'll keep in touch during the day." He walked towards the door, then turned back to add, "Try not to get too bored today, Abby."

She smiled at him as he left, but as soon as he was gone her face fell into an aching weariness. She still had not recovered her strength, and wasn't sure if she ever would.

But she forced herself to stand up and clear away the dishes before she went upstairs and back to bed.

Ducky was a bit late but not enough to cause anyone to notice – that is, anyone except Special Agent Gibbs. He was waiting in autopsy when Ducky entered.

"Hello, Jethro. Do we have a new case?"

Gibbs answered obliquely. "Is Palmer coming soon?"

"No, he has an exam this morning and won't be in until afternoon. Why do you ask?"

"I want to talk to you about Abby."

Ducky sighed. "Very well, Jethro."

Gibbs wasn't quite sure how to begin, but finally he decided to go straight to the bottom line. "Ducky, she could have died."

"I know that," Ducky said sharply. "Believe me, I know it well. I've thought about it ever since it happened."

"Are the two of you planning to try again?"

Ducky looked directly into his eyes. "That's not your concern, is it Jethro?"

Gibbs became impatient. "Look, Duck, don't pretend that you don't know what I mean. What if it's worse the next time – and she dies? Could you honestly live with yourself, knowing you did that to her?"

"Gibbs –"

"I know you better than that. You'd better think about the danger involved before you continue playing 'house' with Abby."

As usual, he was gone before Ducky was able to digest what had been said.

Ducky felt a sinking sensation in his gut, a sensation that told him Gibbs was right. He couldn't risk Abby's life, not even one more time. The first time was enough. As much as they both wanted a baby, it was too dangerous.

Of course, they weren't just 'playing house,' as Gibbs had insinuated. He loved Abby more than anyone before – and she seemed to feel the same way. But couldn't they still be in love and not have children?

Ducky had tears in his eyes as he realized he would have to tell her at the end of the day. She would be devastated, he knew; she was so fragile right now that it seemed the hope of getting pregnant again was the only thing holding her together. How would she react? He felt sure that it would not be pleasant.

Shaking his head sadly, he donned his lab coat for another day's work.


	21. Chapter 21

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 21

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Abby spent much of her time (when she was not sleeping) wandering around the Internet. First, she read all she could find about miscarriages, but that only made her more depressed. Then she found a site that allowed parents to make pages to remember their unborn children. Although it made her cry, she found the process of making the page strangely comforting. Since they didn't know the sex of the baby, she used primarily yellow along with some pinks and blues, and gave the name as simply "Our Baby."

By the time she finished, she was exhausted, so she ate a sandwich and followed it with a nap. She was sleeping still when Ducky called.

"How are you, my dear?" he asked.

"Sleepy," she admitted. "How are you?"

She could hear a definite edge to his voice, although his words did not seem to match. "It hasn't been busy so far, and I've been able to work on the continuing education I told you about."

"What's wrong?" she demanded, just as soon as he stopped speaking (and perhaps a bit sooner).

Ducky faked a cough to keep himself from getting choked up. "Nothing, dearest. I've had quite a pleasant morning." He willed himself to believe it, since if he didn't believe what he said, she certainly wouldn't.

"You don't sound like it."

He coughed again. "Maybe it's because I have a bit of a cough. Allergies, most likely."

"Okay," she said reluctantly. "Oh, Ducky, I have to tell about this website I found…"

He sighed with relief as she described the memorial page she'd made for their baby. This time he didn't try to hide the edge in his voice or the emotions he felt. "Would you send me the link?" he said, as tears threatened to break out.

"Yes," she said simply. "I think I should let you go now," she added, "but call me again if you want to talk."

He nodded, then realized she couldn't see him. "Yes, my dear. We shall talk again later." As soon as he heard the click on her end of the line, he allowed the tears to spill out and cried for several minutes. He didn't hear the door open, so he wasn't aware anyone else was in the room until the person was quite close.

"Ducky, should I come back later?" Ziva asked uncertainly. Nothing in her Mossad training had prepared her to deal with such displays of emotion.

He glanced at her, then wiped his eyes and cheeks. "No, it's all right. What did you come for, Ziva?"

"I don't understand what is happening," she confessed. "I mean, between you and Abby and the Director and Agent Gibbs –"

"What about Gibbs?" he asked, surprised.

"I though Abby told you."

"No, she didn't tell me. Perhaps it was meant to be a secret."

"The Director can hardly expect to keep it secret much longer; she's already unable to wear some of her clothes."

For a moment Ducky unsuccessfully tried to process that information, then he realized what Ziva meant. "You mean she is pregnant?"

"Yes."

"How far long?"

"I think about four and a half months. But I'm not certain."

"And how did Gibbs take this?" he asked worriedly.

"According to Jenny, he took it just fine. She was very surprised that he seemed to be happy about it."

Ducky felt a chill running through his bloodstream straight to his heart. "How dare he," Ziva heard him whisper. His mind was full of anger and vivid thoughts of what he would like to do to Gibbs.

Ziva could see the developing rage on Ducky's face, so she decided it was best to leave, before she said something else to make the situation even more difficult.

After he had finally calmed down, Ducky started thinking about how he would confront Gibbs. He needed facts first, so he called Abby's OB doctor and left a message. Then he contemplated what his "friend" had done. Ducky could not trust Gibbs' motives in anything to do with Abby; that much was clear. Whether he realized it or not, he was probably still in love with her. He still wanted her, regardless of his feelings for Jenny.

And if Gibbs couldn't have her, he would make sure that no one could.

Ducky felt himself letting go of the guilt that Gibbs had escalated in him earlier that day. Now that he distrusted Gibbs' motives, what Gibbs said didn't seem to matter much anymore. He would talk to Abby about the dangers, then they would decide together what to do.

His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. "NCIS Autopsy, Dr. Mallard speaking."

"Dr. Mallard, this is Dr. Williams. I got your message; what can I do for you today?"

He took a deep breath before asking the question that was nagging him. "My partner, Abby Sciuto, recently had a miscarriage, and the surgeon found it difficult to stop the bleeding. Given that fact, how much greater will the risk be with a second pregnancy?"

"You mean, how likely is it that she will miscarry again?"

"Yes, and also the bleeding problem. I was there, and I know that she almost died from it."

"Hmmm. Well, having one miscarriage does increase the likelihood of another one. I can't bring the details to mind –"

"She's only seen you once."

"Oh, I see. Is she over 35?"

"No."

"Does she smoke, or drink caffeine?"

"She loves a drink called Caf-Pow! but she stopped drinking it when we found out she was pregnant."

"That's good. So she doesn't smoke?"

"No."

"Okay, I can give you a rough estimate of the odds. A woman who has had one miscarriage has a 20% chance of having another one, as compared to someone who didn't miscarry. That's barring any other risk factors like smoking. Regarding the bleeding – does she have a bleeding disorder?"

"No, she's never had any problems with that. She's quite healthy."

"Then it's unlikely to recur. However, just in case, I'll do a set of tests the next time she comes in, before she gets pregnant. Would you like to make an appointment now?"

Ducky agreed, and the doctor transferred him to the front desk, where he scheduled an appointment for the following week. When that was completed, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The danger wasn't as bad as he feared – he was free of the guilt, and he and Abby could try for another baby as planned.

Now to take care of his other problem. He was sidetracked briefly by an agent who needed a copy of an autopsy report, but then he picked up the phone to call upstairs. But as he was entering the number, Gibbs walked into Autopsy.

"Gibbs – I'm glad you're here," Ducky said, his expression grim. "We need to talk, and we need to talk privately."

Gibbs didn't answer, just beckoned Ducky to the elevator. They both stepped into the elevator and it began to rise.

Then Ducky pulled the emergency switch. As he turned to face Gibbs, he muttered "You bastard."


	22. Chapter 22

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 22

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Gibbs just stood there and waited impassively for Ducky to speak his piece.

A few moments passed while the doctor ordered his thoughts. Finally, he spoke. "I'm not going to let you get in the way of my relationship with Abby." His voice was low and even but ice cold. "You've done some things before that proved the second 'b' in your name, but this one has easily outdone all the rest. Did you have any idea what you were doing when you spoke to me this morning about Abby? Are you an expert on miscarriages? Did you have reason to blame it on me? No!" His words became louder and angrier. "Whether you admit it or not, you still have feelings for Abby. You're allowing it to show in your behavior and that's not fair to anyone – not me, not Abby, and definitely not Jenny. Just imagine how she will feel when she learns the truth. I'm not going to say you can't love two people at the same time, but –"

"Duck –"

"Don't speak, Gibbs, I don't want to hear anything you have to say."

"Too bad!" Gibbs yelled over Ducky's voice. "How do you think I felt? Abby came to me and said she wanted a baby with you. She acknowledged that she and I were in love with each other. Then suddenly she decides she loves only you! How do you think that made me feel?"

"I'm sure it hurt," Ducky replied. "But that doesn't give you the right to guilt-trip me into altering our plans!"

"I was just thinking about Abby's safety!"

"Of _course _you were. Meanwhile you had your own triumph – you knew that Jenny was pregnant with your child. The only thing left to do was to make certain that Abby and I _didn't_ achieve that goal. Then you would 'win' in some childish, twisted game of revenge. I took Abby away from you, and you had to get revenge for that. Abby fell in love with me, so she had to be punished, too. And you found a nice, neat way to punish both of us, didn't you?" Ducky's breathing was faster from all the shouting, and his gut ached with all the anger that still was not being expressed.

"Ducky, I –" Gibbs began. Then he thought better of whatever he had been about to say, and merely asked, "Are you done?"

Ducky was surprised at this question. "For now," he answered warily.

Gibbs turned the elevator back on and pushed the button to take them back to autopsy. The elevator sank and they were silent, until finally it reached the basement.

The doors opened to reveal Abby, who had a worried look on her face. "I couldn't get hold of you, so I drove here to see you and make sure everything was okay. It is okay, isn't it?" She looked back and forth between the two men's faces, sensing that something had just happened.

"Yes."

"Just fine, my dear." Ducky stepped out of the elevator and took Abby's arm. "You really shouldn't be here, you know." Behind them the doors closed quietly and the elevator began its ascent.

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter; I'm out of town.


	23. Chapter 23

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 23

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Upon their return to autopsy, Abby pressed Ducky for information about the trouble she was sensing. Ducky was understandably evasive, but eventually he let it slip that Gibbs had said something very offensive. From there it did not take her long to intuit the details.

"How could he do that?" she cried. Her voice was hurt, then it changed to anger. "I thought he cared about me!" As Ducky reached to comfort her, she stood up, her jaw tight and her expression unreadable. She walked quickly towards the elevator.

"Abby, don't!" Ducky exclaimed, but he was too late. The elevator doors were already closed.

Minutes later she stepped out into the squad room and quickly headed for Gibbs' desk. She paid no attention to Tony's welcome or McGee's questions; as soon as she reached Gibbs she decked him with a solid right hook that caught his left eye and the side of his nose. The sheer force of the blow knocked him backwards, almost to the floor, but he grabbed the desk and pulled himself back up. She was about to strike again but he grasped her forearms so tightly she couldn't move them. Instead she kicked him in the shin. She still had not spoken; the only sound was a low growl of anger.

Gibbs winced when her heavy boot hit him in the leg. His nose was bleeding and his eye was already beginning to swell. "DiNozzo," he barked.

"Oh – yeah, Boss." Tony tugged Abby backwards until she could no longer reach Gibbs. Meanwhile McGee and Ziva moved closer to their boss, just in case he got out of control.

"Why did you do it?" Abby asked in a shrill voice. "Why? And don't say you were just looking out for me!"

"But I was!" Gibbs insisted.

Abby almost twisted out of Tony's arms but he stopped her just in time. "Come on, Abbs," he said quietly. "Don't get yourself into any more trouble."

Abby didn't like it, but she knew he was right. She could be charged with one count of assaulting a federal officer – a felony – and she didn't need another. With visible effort she forced herself to relax. "Gibbs," she said intensely, "if you ever mess with Ducky or me again, you'll be sorry. Remember, I'm the only person –"

"—who could kill you and leave no forensic evidence," the others finished in chorus.

Abby frowned. "That wasn't what I was going to say," she protested.

"Then what _were_ you planning to say?" Gibbs asked, his blue eyes searching for something in her expression that he knew was no longer there.

She smiled a bit, but it was not a nice smile. "I'm the only person who knows all your secrets." This time she was able to get away from Tony, turning around and walking to the elevator without looking back.

Gibbs stood beside his desk, trying to appear undisturbed by Abby's words and actions. McGee, Tony, and Ziva had returned to their desks and were trying to appear absorbed in their work.

"What was that about?" Jenny asked, walking up behind Gibbs.

He turned and kissed her forehead. "Nothing," he lied.

"Your words say one thing, but your face tells me something else," she noted, gently touching the bruise that was quickly forming on his cheek and around his eyeball. "Let me get some ice to put on your eye."

They expected him to refuse, knowing that he hated being fussed over. But he surprised them – he readily agreed to let her care for him. It was then that they realized something very complicated was happening here, something much more important that a minor

squabble.

As soon as Abby re-entered autopsy she burst into tears. "Carry on for a bit," Ducky whispered to Palmer, who nodded.

Ducky embraced her, pulling her close to him. "Shh," he murmured. "He's not worth it, my dearest."

"I hate him, Ducky."

"I understand, sweet Abigail. But he is not going to interfere with our lives anymore. We know now that he is not trustworthy."

"I'll never believe another thing he says," she said fiercely.

"I'm sure that's best," he soothed. "Why did you come today, Abby?" He hoped a change of subject would be helpful.

"I missed you," she said as she kissed him on the forehead.

"I missed you too, my love." He embraced her even more tightly and gently kissed her lips; the kiss quickly grew passionate. He whispered something in her ear that resulted in a restrained giggle. They gradually moved toward the exit and the elevator access.

"Dr. –" Jimmy began, but when he glanced up he quickly averted his gaze and stifled the rest of his question.

However, he couldn't restrain a little smile.


	24. Chapter 24

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 24

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Weeks passed; after a time, the incident with Gibbs was put aside and Ducky and Abby continued their relationship. There was an iciness that was always there when they had cause to speak with Gibbs, but eventually the cold became familiar and they stopped missing the better times. They made each other's world, so Gibbs' absence no longer mattered.

Jenny soon began to wear maternity clothing. She made no formal announcement about her pregnancy (and certainly not about the father) but it was evident and no longer possible to ignore. The agents wisely chose not to question her. Even Ziva sensed that Jenny did not want to discuss the matter. Of course, they talked amongst themselves. Gibbs had been very upset the day Abby punched him, but he willingly accepted comfort from Jenny and that fact in itself told them how the relationship was proceeding. His mood gradually improved until he smiled so often that they weren't sure he was really Gibbs anymore.

Abby's cycle passed and they were finally able to attempt pregnancy again. Dr. Roberts, Abby's OB, had given them some tips to improve their chances. She also insisted that Abby stay on bed rest until after the 12th week; Abby hated this restriction but she recognized its importance. She was willing to do whatever was required.

To her delight, she missed her next period, then waited with bated breath until two more weeks had passed with no sign of it. That day she stood in the lab once again waiting for the machine to give her the news. The only difference was that this time Ducky was waiting with her.

"I'm glad you told me this time, Abby."

She paced back and forth in front of him. "I realized it wasn't right to hide it from you, Ducky. No matter what happens, I want you beside me."

He caught her as she passed in front of him. "Thank you, my dear," he whispered, kissing her forehead. He could feel the tension in her body and wondered if he could help her relax. It was worth a try at least.

He turned her slightly so her back was to the door, then slipped one hand beneath her skirt. She gasped as he lightly stroked the tiny scrap of cloth she called underwear. He teased her by running one finger up and down her inner thighs, in the most sensitive places which, by now, he knew very well. "Ducky," she breathed, "what are you doing?"

He smirked at her. "What do you think, my dear?" Her panties were growing wet so he reached beneath them to find her soft, well-trimmed tufts of hair.

She couldn't help pushing against his hand. "More, Ducky," she moaned.

He caught her mouth with his own while plunging two fingers inside her, his thumb rubbing around-but-not-quite-on her clit. Her eyes were closed to shut out all other senses but what he was doing to her. "Oh god," she murmured, swaying towards him. He concentrated on direct stimulation now, knowing that she was close.

The blood analyzer beeped but neither of them cared at that point.

"Let go, my love," he whispered in her ear. He felt her walls tighten around his fingers, and covered her cry with a deep kiss. It hadn't taken long – he had noticed that she was more sensitive recently.

She slowly regained her breath, leaning against him to hold her up. "Wow, Ducky," she breathed. "Just – wow."

"Do you need to sit down?" he asked, worried.

"Yeah. Good idea." He carefully set her down on the lab stool. "I feel really relaxed now," she told him with a happy smile.

"Relaxed enough to hear the results?"

"Oh yes! Can you –"

He was already approaching the machine and tore off the printout, his eyes searching for the most important number. It seemed to pop out at him. He smiled and handed it to Abby.

She knew what the answer was, but she wanted to see it for herself. "Thank God," she whispered. She started to jump up and down, but restrained herself. Instead she held out her arms and he walked into her embrace.

"We're going to keep this one," he murmured against her shoulder. She pressed her cheek against his in wordless agreement, and pulled him closer.

"I know."


	25. Chapter 25

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 25

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Abby's OB had said that bed rest was not always effective at preventing 1st trimester miscarriages, since many of them were caused by a genetic defect. Bed rest was more commonly used to prevent premature labor in the 3rd trimester. Still, Abby – though she hated staying in the house all day, much less in bed! – had decided to do anything she could to improve the odds of having a healthy child.

After only 5 days she was bored by all the 'toys' she had available (computer, video games, TV, movies, music, etc), so when the phone rang she hastily grabbed it and said hello excitedly.

"Abby! Have you heard from Gibbs lately?" Jenny's voice sounded frantic; she was clearly on the verge of tears.

"No, I haven't talked to him since I stopped working," Abby replied, troubled. "What's wrong?"

"He – he –" Jenny's voice broke, and Abby could hear a soothing voice behind her.

"Gibbs didn't show up to their OB appointment." The new voice was Ziva's, and in the background Abby could hear little sobs and sniffs.

"That's – very sucky and hinky," Abby finished lamely. She couldn't think of words vast enough to convey the badness of the situation. "Do you think something happened to him?"

"No, no, I don't think so," Ziva said hastily, causing Abby to make a mental note to speak to Tony or McGee and to find out what Ziva wasn't telling her.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Ziva's next words confirmed Abby's suspicions. "I think McGee said he needs your help with a cold case. You must be terribly bored being there by yourself, with only Mrs. Mallard and her corgis to keep you company."

Abby laughed in spite of herself. "Yes, I certainly am!" More seriously, she added "Hopefully one of us will find him.

"Yes. Goodbye, Abby."

After hanging up the phone, Abby sat and thought for awhile. Even though she and Gibbs had been at odds for several difficult months, she still knew him very well from their years of close friendship. Why would he miss the OB appointment? Jenny seemed to believe it was purposeful, but her judgment was biased because she still felt insecure about Gibbs' feelings for her.

Abby thought it highly unlikely that Gibbs would abandon a pregnant woman or a child. Only if he were mentally unstable – a possibility, albeit a small one. Gibbs always seemed to skate the edge of intensity, pushing himself as far as possible, escaping the fall by a hair's breadth.

Abby believed that something had happened to Gibbs, such as being kidnapped or – no, she wouldn't say or even think it, because she couldn't bear to imagine him dead.

She shook herself from her thoughts, then dialed Tony's number. "Tony? What's going on?"

"Abbs, we're really busy right now. I'm expecting calls from Gibbs' usual hideouts."

"Have you interviewed his neighbors?"

"McGee is there now."

"What about traffic cameras? When was he last seen?"

"Abby, calm down!" Tony was rather alarmed at the stress he could hear in her voice. Could stress cause a miscarriage? He didn't want to find out. "Abbs, call Ducky. That will make you feel better. Don't worry, I'll tell him whenever we get results." He paused for a moment, then added, "Maybe you should do some meditation, or whatever that is that you do. I don't think stressing out is good for the baby."

Abby suddenly remembered why she was at home when everyone else was at work. "Yeah – yeah, Tony, you're right. I'll call Ducky."

"Take care, Abby."

Before she called Ducky's cell phone, she took a moment to breathe deeply and relax her body and mind. Tony was right; she needed to care for the baby first.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was tired and frustrated – how could he have let this happen yet again? He had grown complacent, had put his trust in someone, and as a result he was now lying in a very small, dark place. He could not stand or sit; he could barely stretch his legs out. He was trying not to think about the possibility (likelihood) that soon he would run out of air.

He thought of Jenny and the baby, and hoped she would forgive him for missing the OB appointment. Then his thoughts turned to trying to remember how he got here.

He was fairly sure he had been hit in the head and knocked unconscious, for an extremely tender bump had swelled above his left ear, and his entire right side ached. It wasn't more than he could stand, but it was uncomfortable.

He thought it likely that his right wrist was broken, probably from the fall.

When he woke up he found himself in this – this – whatever it was. For all he knew, he could be at NCIS or he could be in Chicago. He heard people mumbling, but they never spoke loudly enough or clearly enough for him to understand what they were saying.

What was this place? It made him think of one of the drawers in the morgue, but they were very cold and he certainly wasn't cold here. In fact, he was beginning to sweat profusely; he seemed to be burning a fire inside himself. When the dizziness hit he realized he had been doped. He groaned and pushed on the barrier above his head. If it were a drawer, maybe he could get it open. But 30 seconds later his mind exploded, he saw fireworks whether his eyes were open or closed, and his arms and legs itched so much that he began to wiggle, trying to reach this area or that. He cried out, but his voice sounded hollow.

He could hear no voices anymore, so he knew that there probably wasn't anyone around to save him. Mercifully, before he could seriously damage his skin by scratching, he lost consciousness again.


	26. Chapter 26

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 26

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

When Abby called, Ducky did his best to calm and soothe her, but he himself was quite concerned about Gibbs, and she could tell.

"I wish I knew more, my dear," he confessed. "I feel as if I should be helping the others find Jethro, but really there is nothing I can do at this point."

"Same here," Abby agreed, and they both sighed. "Ducky, will you ask some questions for me?"

"What is it, dearest?"

"Ask Jake what he knows. Have they sent him any evidence to examine? I doubt this is a random whatever-it-is. It probably relates to a case he had."

"Yes, I agree. It reminds me of the time when –" Ducky stopped himself, remembering the outcome of the previous incident. "Never mind. I will find out what I can, and ask Jake to email you his reports."

"Thank you, my love. Take care."

"You too. Love you. Goodbye." Ducky returned the receiver to its cradle, his thoughts churning wildly. He was worried about Gibbs, yes, but he worried about Abby even more. He knew, however, that if he tried to stop her from getting information about the case, she would become more distressed and agitated than ever.

With another sigh he told Palmer he was leaving for a bit, and rode the elevator up to Abby's lab, where the temporary, Jake, was completing the forensics.

Abby had almost reached the point of getting out of bed and driving to NCIS when she received another call which turned out to be Tony. "Hey, Abbs, are you busy?"

She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see. "Just growing a baby, that's all," she smirked. But he didn't return her playfulness.

"We have some information that might be helpful," he said. "Have you ever heard of Fereshtah Limon?"

She sat up straight in the bed. "Yes! Is she involved in this?"

"We think so. We found her fingerprints on Gibbs car, which means she was at his house recently."

"Oh, no," Abby murmured. "I wonder if something happened to her brother."

"You mean Aref? Yeah, he killed himself in prison a week ago."

"Well then…" Abby hated to say what she thought; she had liked Fereshtah. "I guess you know it was Gibbs that got him a life sentence. Without his testimony and evidence, Aref might have gotten 20 years. At most."

"I suspected that, but I wasn't sure. So it's revenge."

"An eye for an eye?"

"Or in this case, a life for a life."

"You think he's dead?"

"Not sure, Abbs. I hope not."

Abby reminded herself to take deep breaths. "Do you have any leads as to where she is?"

"No, I was hoping you might have an idea. That was before I started working here."

"I know." Abby searched her memory, biting her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, but she didn't notice.

Finally she spoke. "Aref used his workplace to hide bodies and other incriminating evidence. Fereshtah may be doing the same thing."

"Where does she work?" Tony asked eagerly.

"Well, you know it was a few years back – but as I remember, she worked as a nurse at a small hospital in Germantown. I'd start there if I were you."

Gibbs was awakened by a very bright light shining directly into his eyes. He still felt the influence of the drugs, whatever they were, and he had no idea where he was or why.

A voice said, "Wake up!"

"I am awake," he growled, trying to shade his eyes from the light. He discovered that something was holding his wrists down. "What do you want?"

"I'll ask the questions, Agent Gibbs," the voice replied smoothly. It was a woman's voice, almost like audible honey, with an accent that sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"Have you had any contact recently with a man named Aref Limon?" the woman continued.

"Aref? Aref," he said slowly, trying to determine if he even knew an Aref. "I don't know…"

"Come, Agent Gibbs, I know I drugged you but it should be wearing off by now. Nevertheless I will help you. You had him sent to prison for murdering four female Navy officers."

"Oh… that Aref." He thought for another moment, then added, "No, I haven't seen him since the trial."

He was startled by a sudden electric shock that sent pain to his extremities and made him glad he was already lying down.

"Are you sure about that, Agent Gibbs? My brother committed suicide. Prison records show that you visited him only a few days before."

"Did I?" His head felt clearer now. "Yes, I did," he acknowledged. "He asked to see me."

Another electric shock went through his body. "You lie!" she cried. "My brother would never do that! Why would he want to see you?"

Gibbs did not want to tell her; he was fairly sure the answer would result in more pain.

"Answer me!" she screamed.

"He felt guilty and he wanted to say he was sorry for the murders," he finally whispered.

Just as he had expected, a shock of greater intensity resulted, followed by two injections, all accompanied by her screams of rage. He was almost thankful when the drugs began to work and he became unconscious once more.


	27. Chapter 27

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 27

Author: GataChica

Rating: M/FR18

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

That night, as Abby lay nestled against Ducky's side, she asked him if any new information had been uncovered.

"Not much, my dear," Ducky spoke softly into her ear. He turned, wrapping his arm around her belly, which had barely started to grow larger. "I know you're worried, my lotus blossom. We all are. But you mustn't allow yourself to brood or to feel guilt. You have already provided information that is essential to the case; the agents were very appreciative."

"But they haven't found anything else," she fretted.

"They will." He cupped her face with one hand, turning her towards him so that his lips could find hers in a kiss of gentle reassurance. But he quickly realized that she wanted more – needed more – to rid her mind of the unpleasant feelings. He couldn't help but respond to her seductive caresses; they began with her nails scraping across his chest and quickly moved down towards his thighs, where her hands teased him with light touches that never stayed in one place long enough.

"Abby," he breathed, feeling a touch lightheaded.

She turned onto her back, pulling him on top of her, then said softly, "I need you now, Ducky. Please."

He swallowed hard and tried to hold back so as not to hurt as he slid inside her. She threw back her head, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed with passion. Pushing her hips against him, she wrapped her legs around his and cried "More, more, Ducky, I need more."

Ducky moaned as her muscles rippled around him, holding him tightly as he moved in and out. Her cries of passion soon made it impossible for him to continue being gentle. His thrusts became hard and fast, sending him gradually to the heights of pleasure. "Abby," he murmured, "you excite me to oblivion."

"Yes, yes," she answered in a throaty voice. "Mmm, more, Ducky."

Their movements became frantic – each time he thrust into her, she responded by lifting her hips to meet him. He took hold of her ankles and placed them on his shoulders to allow him to go a bit deeper, then held the soft globes of her ass in his hands and pulled them towards him. He could feel her walls tightening as she moaned with incoherent little sounds. He knew he was close to his own release as well.

"Ducky, I'm –"

Before she could finish, he pushed his hand between them to find her most sensitive area; as soon as he touched it she began to tremble and screamed his name. Her core throbbed with her pleasure, causing him to thrust even harder, the involuntary spasms filling her with fluid.

His movements gradually slowed and he rolled a bit to the side without pulling out.

"I would very much like to stay this way," he whispered, kissing her face and neck, "I would remain inside you forever if I could, my darling Abigail."

She sighed heavily, and he noticed that her gaze as her eyes met his was a little wobbly. "I love you so much, Ducky," she murmured, her eyes beginning to close. "I love you…"

Ducky realized after a few moments that she was asleep. "You must be exhausted, my dear," he said quietly. Very slowly he pulled out and went to the bathroom to clean up, returning with a moist towel to clean her as well. He tried to be as gentle as possible, and although she stirred a bit, she did not waken.

He didn't bother putting on pajamas, merely crawled back into bed next to her. He spooned his body against her back, closed his eyes, and almost instantly fell asleep.

There was an incessant ringing in Abby's left ear and she could not determine what it was. "Go away," she mumbled, covering her head with the pillow.

Fortunately, Ducky came fully awake and identified the source of the noise. He leaned across Abby and picked up the receiver. "Mallard residence," he said crisply.

"Ducky, we need you to come in if you can," Jenny Shepard said. "We've got a dead body and we hope it's related to Jethro's disappearance." By now she had realized that Gibbs failure to appear was not intentional, which made his disappearance more difficult in some ways and easier in others.

"Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can." He replaced the phone, hoping Abby had gone back to sleep, but when he turned she was sitting next to him with her eyes wide open.

"Are you going in?" she asked urgently.

"Yes, my dear, I'm needed for an autopsy."

"Not Gibbs?" she asked sharply.

He turned and kissed her. "No, Abigail, it is not Gibbs, but it is probably related." By this time he was fully dressed. "I don't know the details yet, so I can't give you any information, but once I arrive I will call you. Do relax if you can, dear."

"All right," she agreed reluctantly. "But - darling, be careful." She kept her smile until he closed the door, then buried her head in her pillow and sobbed until her eyes were red and puffy.

Ducky readily identified the dead man without even taking prints - his name was Lawrence Wolniak, another agent who had worked with Gibbs in the Aref Limon case. As the doctor donned his autopsy gear, he began the audiotape record.

"Subject identified by myself as Lawrence Wolniak, NCIS agent that helped solve a series of murders back in 2000. External exam suggests cause of death to be electrocution." He looked carefully at the man's arms. "There is a line of injection sites on the right arm, suggesting possible drug abuse, or -" he pondered a moment, "perhaps involuntary injections of drugs intended to maintain control."

Abrasions on the man's knuckles suggested that he had fought back, and there were skin cells under most of his fingernails. Ducky took careful samples, then set them aside to take up to Jake's lab (why was he already calling it Jake's lab? It felt as if he were being disloyal to Abby).

Ducky was just beginning the internal exam when Tony entered. "Hello, Anthony. How are you, besides tired?" Tony had just tried to cover up a yawn.

"Frustrated, Ducky. Have you found anything?"

"Possibly. The cause of death seems to be electrocution."

"I could tell that myself, Ducky."

"Oh - yes - I suppose you could," Ducky agreed, a bit flustered. "This is very distressing."

"I know, Ducky. What else?"

"He was either a drug addict or someone was keeping him drugged. The tox screen will tell. Is Jake in yet?"

"Yes. Want me to take samples upstairs for you?" Tony knew Ducky didn't enjoy going to the lab without Abby there.

"Yes, thank you, my dear boy. I'll call if I learn anything else."

Tony nodded, picked up the samples, and carried them very carefully out of the morgue.

Ducky continued to mutter to himself as he worked on the body, then he realized something he had forgotten - possibly because of the horror of it and what it meant.

Abby had been the forensic scientist that testified at Aref's trial (he studiously ignored his own participation in the trial). She had matched his blood and semen to that found on the victims, and had also cracked Aref's alibi for one of the murders.

Surely Fereshtah had not forgotten about Abby.

Ducky half-ran for the phone and dialed security. Somewhat breathless, he said, "We need security at both Abby's apartment and at my home. Please contact available personnel and have them call me for details. Thank you."

He put down the autopsy phone so that the call-back would go through, but then picked up his cell phone to call Abby and make sure Fereshtah had not found her yet.

The phone rang and rang, while Ducky whispered, "Pick it up, Abby, pick it up!"

Finally, when it was almost ready to go to voice mail, a sleepy voice answered, "Yes?"

"Abby?" The fear was evident in his voice.

"What is it Ducky?" she asked, alarmed.

"You are in danger, Abigail. Security will be at the house in no more than twenty minutes, but during that time I want you to remain locked in our bathroom, talking to me."

"How will I know when they get here?" she asked.

"Just a moment, I'll talk to them."

He held the cell away from the regular phone, but she could hear most of it. She definitely heard Ducky instructing them to call her cell phone, then he gave them a password - "Skellington." Abby smiled in spite of herself. He knew how much she liked 'The Nightmare Before Christmas.'

"I understand," she interrupted, when he began to speak to her again. "What about this autopsy? Who is it? What did you find?"

They both tried to concentrate on the facts concerning the dead body, rather than the potential danger to themselves.


	28. Chapter 28

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 28

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

A/N: I hope there was not any confusion due to my repost of Chapter 27. I needed to make some changes, so I took off the old version and replaced it with the new version.

Ziva was silent as she drove the car with McGee beside her, but her mind was racing with thoughts and emotions. She wished she could take this assignment alone; they would be able to visit the potential hospitals much faster if each one had a list to themselves. However, as she had learned while at NCIS, unexpected and disastrous events could happen at any time. It was always better to have backup if there might be contact with a criminal.

McGee was worried. No matter how much he tried, he could not rid himself of the image of Gibbs lying dead in autopsy. At this point he was almost convinced that they would be too late to save the Senior Agent. If it did happen that way, the team might – and probably would - disintegrate completely.

Tony had been stuck with a Probie from another team as his backup, and he was not happy about it. He criticized Agent Porter mercilessly as they drove to the first hospital that they were to check. "Can't you make a turn without slowing down so much?" he complained. "If you hadn't noticed, we're in a hurry."

"Sorry, Agent DiNozzo." Ron Porter had already learned it was best not to offer opinions or information, but instead to simply say he was sorry. DiNozzo, unlike Gibbs, did not mind people saying they were sorry.

Abby dutifully remained in the master bathroom until she received a call from Security Officer "Skellington." She went downstairs to open the door, but was waylaid by Mrs. Mallard, who had been awakened in spite of the sleep aid she took at night.

"What is the meaning of this? Where is Donald? Did you send him away, you young floozy?" She shook her cane at Abby, who was forced to swerve to avoid it.

"Donald's at work, Mrs. Mallard," she said earnestly. "And I'm Abby, remember? He sent some people to keep us safe."

She glanced through the peephole and saw three Security personnel, two in uniform and one plainclothesman. As soon as they walked in, Victoria moved forward with her cane again, ready to strike. "Wait, Mrs. Mallard," Abby said hastily, grasping the cane. "They aren't robbers. They're like police, only better." One of the officers smiled, while the other two tried not to. "Now let's get you back to bed. See, it's dark outside. It's not time to wake up yet."

Fortunately, Abby's soothing voice did the trick and soon Victoria was fast asleep again.

Closing the bedroom door, Abby introduced herself to Officers Garcia, Rochester, and Cheng. "Why did Ducky send three of you?" she asked curiously.

"Just to be sure," Garcia replied. "He didn't explain, Ms. Sciuto –"

"Call me Abby," she interrupted.

"Abby, then. He didn't explain but he was extremely concerned that you might be hurt or kidnapped."

'_Like Gibbs,_' Abby thought. "I guess I'll have to ask him myself."

"Better yet, why don't you get some sleep?" asked Garcia. "Dr. Mallard was emphatic about that point, since you're pregnant."

She groaned but smiled at the same time. "That's my Ducky," she murmured as she turned towards the staircase. "Good night, officers."

When she was once again snuggled comfortably under the covers, she realized how highly charged her body was, and how unlikely she was to fall asleep again. She tried progressive relaxation, then she tried deep breathing with a mantra. Nothing seemed to work; her thoughts kept drifting back to the problem of Fereshtah and Gibbs. She knew there was something important that she had forgotten, and the more she tried to think of it, the more elusive it became.

Finally, she climbed out of bed in frustration and went into the bathroom to wash her face. She was applying moisturizer when the flashback hit, causing her to freeze.

_Fereshtah was being interrogated by Gibbs, but Abby couldn't see or hear clearly. Only one phrase stood out from the other speech sounds: "DC General."_

She hurried back to the bedroom and wrote the words on a piece of notepaper, just in case she forgot them again. Then she picked up the phone and dialed Tony's number.

"DiNozzo."

"Tony, I know where she is."

"What? Who?"

"I know where Fereshtah is! If you just listen to me, Tony - she's at DC General."

"How do you know? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I just remembered something she said when Gibbs interrogated her. I think she said that she worked in the morgue there until they abandoned it for a newer, more modern building. Anyway, it doesn't matter, Tony, just hurry!"

"We're already on our way, Abbs. Call Ziva or McGee for backup, ok? And tell them we may need an ambulance."

"I will." She switched off then called McGee, relating the same information to him. She heard him tell Ziva to call an ambulance; unless Gibbs was too unstable, he would be taken to Bethesda.

She let out a heavy sigh, then started to call Ducky, but the phone rang first and she could see it was him. "Ducky? Guess what? I know where she is!"

Ducky was a bit taken aback. "You do? So do I."

"DC General?"

"Yes."

"How did you find out? I remembered something she said from before."

"And I, my dear Abigail, found the letters 'DC' burned into my dead body's scalp."

"Ducky, I wish I were there with you." She tried but could not hide the longing in her voice.

"I feel the same, dearest. Why don't you –"

"Can't I get one of the officers to take me to NCIS?" she interrupted. "I can't stand being left out like this. I want to know everything that happens."

Ducky chuckled; he knew his lotus blossom very well. "Of course, Abby, I was just about to suggest that. I'll call Mother's nurse and ask her to arrive a bit earlier than usual. In the meantime, I will ask one of the security officers to stay with her."

"That will be wonderful, Ducky. I'll see you soon. Love you." She kissed the phone and heard him do the same before she disconnected the call. In spite of the tense circumstances, she smiled at the thought of seeing him, then quickly pulled on a skirt and T-shirt before she headed downstairs.


	29. Chapter 29

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 29

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

By the time that Abby and Officer Cheng arrived at NCIS, Fereshtah and her husband had been taken down by the NCIS agents, and Agent Gibbs had been transported to Bethesda. Director Shepard had gone to meet him there, while Ziva and McGee each interrogated a suspect. Tony watched through the observation rooms, intent on "supervising" their performance.

Abby ran into Ducky's arms and he held her tightly, comforting her as she tried to pretend she wasn't crying. "It's all right, dearest," he murmured, "He's still alive."

"I'm so glad, Ducky. Can we go see him?"

"Yes, of course. Jenny is already at Bethesda; he's still in the operating room, but will be moved to ICU as soon as they finish."

"Finish what?" asked Abby, as Ducky donned his coat.

"Electrical burns can cause serious internal injuries. Surgery at this point is mostly diagnostic but may include treatments such as removal of dead tissues, construction of skin flaps, and other repairs. I don't know yet what specific problems Gibbs has, but we will find out when we get there. After you, my dear."

Ziva was enjoying her job of questioning Fereshtah; she may have enjoyed it a bit too much but no one was upset about that at the moment.

"You do realize that since we caught you in the act of torturing Special Agent Gibbs, _and _we documented it, there is no point in lying. You might as well confess to your crimes, so that you might get a lighter sentence."

Fereshtah's face remained stony as Ziva circled around to stand next to her, just barely intruding into her personal space. Suddenly the woman turned and spat in Ziva's face. "As if I would tell you anything!"

Ziva moved away and calmly wiped her face, even though her anger was threatening to break through. Looking at Fereshtah more closely, Ziva realized that tears were falling down her cheeks.

She sat down and placed her hands in her lap. "You must have been devastated to learn that your brother had killed himself."

Fereshtah looked up in surprise at the new compassionate tone of Ziva's voice. She looked down and replied, almost inaudibly, "Yes."

"You were close to him?"

"Very close. He took care of me when our parents died."

"Did you kidnap Agents Gibbs and Wolniak?"

"No, my husband did the kidnapping." She seemed beaten down now, instead of the rebellious and defiant woman she had been only minutes before. Ziva tried not to betray her amazement at the change her tone of voice had created in the suspect. However, she filed it away for future use.

"And then what?"

Fereshtah didn't answer for several minutes. Ziva was itching to use force to speed up her responses, but she managed to stick to her new tactic.

Finally she said, "And then I drugged them and questioned them and electrocuted them. They were kept in the old morgue drawers in between questioning." She sighed. "I made a mistake with Agent Wolniak. I used too much voltage. I honestly didn't mean to kill him"

"Did you intend to kill Gibbs?"

Fereshtah nodded. "I had to get revenge, you see. My brother killed himself because of something Gibbs told him."

"How do you know that?"

"Well – he must have – because Gibbs visited him in prison a few days before the suicide."

"Were you aware that Agent Gibbs visited the prison at your brother's request?"

Fereshtah looked up, her eyes wide. "That's true then?" She shook her head. "Gibbs told me that but I didn't believe him. He said Aref apologized for the killings. But that doesn't sound like the Aref I knew!"

Ziva opened the file lying on the table. She soon found what she needed, and began to read, "Subject Aref Limon requested the presence of NCIS Special Agent Gibbs. During the visit, the recording reflected the following dialogue:

Gibbs: Why did you want me here, Aref?

Limon: I want to say I'm sorry for what I did.

Gibbs: What things in particular?

Limon: Using drugs and alcohol, beating my wife, stealing, and killing.

Gibbs: You regret murdering the four Navy officers?

Limon: Yes. If I could go back I would change everything and be a good person, but it's too late now.

Gibbs: No, it isn't. You can't change what you did before, but you can change what you do from now on.

Limon: No. I must pay the debt I owe. I know you and the officers' families cannot forgive me. But I needed to apologize.

Gibbs: I forgive you, Aref.

The subject shook his head and asked to be taken back to his cell."

Fereshtah laid her head in her hands. "Now I'm the one who has to apologize," she whispered. "I'm the one who will pay the debt." Looking up at Ziva she added wistfully, "I just wish Aref had told me goodbye."

Ziva wasn't sure what to say. She could feel the emotions stirring within her, but how could she describe them appropriately? Finally she said, "I hope you do get a reduced sentence, Fereshtah. I will do what I can to help you." Ziva stood, picked up the folder, and left the interrogation room.

Tony met her just outside. "Wow, was that really Ziva David, mad ninja assassin, that I saw in there?"

"Grow up, Tony," was all she said, swatting at him with the folder.

Abby and Ducky had to wait for some time before they could visit Gibbs. Jenny was the only person allowed at first. Abby tried to sneak around the nurses and get a peek, but to no avail.

Finally they were told they could enter one at a time. Abby walked purposefully to Gibbs' bed in the ICU, and after getting a nod from Jenny, who sat on his other side, Abby sat down and took Gibbs' hand in hers.

He stirred, then opened one eye to see Abby. He tried to lick his lips, which were dry and cracked, and Jenny dabbed at them with a wet cloth.

"Abbs," he said almost inaudibly.

Both women automatically said "Shh," an index finger on each pair of lips.

"No," Gibbs said, his voice a little stronger. "Abbs, I'm sorry. I was wrong."

Abby's eyes grew large and she almost dropped his hand from surprise. "Gibbs – it's okay," she said sincerely.

"No, it isn't."

"Jethro, Abby and Ducky have already forgiven you," Jen said. Abby nodded.

"Jen, please, let me apologize. It's the least I can do."

Jenny wondered to herself just how much those torture sessions had changed him. "Very well, Jethro."

"I forgive you, Gibbs," said Abby. "Thank you for apologizing. I'm sorry for what I did, too."

He closed his eyes for several minutes. Just when they felt sure he had fallen asleep, he again opened his eyes. "Where's Ducky?"

"I'll go get him," Abby said as she left the room. A moment later she returned, with Ducky in tow, and Gibbs repeated his apology.

Ducky was noticeably touched. "Thank you, Jethro," he said quietly. "I must apologize as well. I was too hard on you."

Gibbs barely shook his head, then his eyes drooped heavily and he fell asleep.

"They have him well-sedated," Jenny explained. "Do you want to stay awhile?"

"Yes," they said simultaneously.

"That's good. I need a little break, do you mind?"

"Not at all." Ducky settled into her seat. "Take your time, Director."

For the first time since Gibbs' disappearance, Jenny smiled broadly. "Thank you, Ducky. I'll do just that."


	30. Chapter 30

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 30

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

-Interlude-

Gibbs recovered and returned to work after a week in the hospital, but the effects of his experience were easily seen. He was just a little bit gentler, even though Tony got about the same number of head slaps as before. He was very affectionate with Jenny, much to her surprise, and he acknowledged others' feelings more.

Ziva wasn't comfortable with the new Gibbs at first; she felt that he had lost some of his ability to command effectively. Over the next month, however, she realized that he could set aside his emotions when necessary, saving them until a more appropriate time.

Abby was happy – well, she seemed happy, even though she still chafed at the restrictions of bed rest – but Ducky began to notice small signs that indicated her uneasiness. She tried to hide the fact that she was worried about having another miscarriage, but she could not entirely hide it from him. She called him more often and fretted when he had to work late.

Finally the day came when she reached the beginning of her 2nd trimester, and Ducky decided to have a party to celebrate. Every member of the team had a part to play: Jenny and Gibbs did the decorations, Ziva and McGee were in charge of refreshments, Tony was to spread the word about the party (making sure everyone realized it was a surprise for Abby), Jake and Jimmy thought up a couple of lab- or Abby-related games.

[Ducky emphasized that this was a 'welcome back' party, not a baby shower. Abby still had 6 months to go before delivery and he did not want her feeling worried or pressured.]

The party was a great success. Abby was duly surprised, and Ducky noticed tears in her eyes, happy tears instead of sad ones. She seemed to relax more, especially when they played the games (one of which had to do with the 'elements' song, the other a scavenger hunt), and she talked shop with Jake until it was clear that she both liked and respected him. Gibbs breathed an internal sigh of relief at that; he had been concerned because it was absolutely necessary for Abby to have an assistant to take some of the work load as well as to handle dangerous chemicals.

Abby worked half-time for a week, then back up to full-time. She wasn't allowed overtime, however. This was a continual source of irritation for her, even though she understood the reason for it.

"Gibbs, this is ridiculous!" she shouted one day when her nerves were wearing thin. "I can keep working, I am fine, and there is no change in my abilities, so why the hell are you making me go home?"

"Abby, you know why. If I allow you to get overly stressed I will have to answer to Ducky, and I don't want to do that."

With a scowl, Abby said softly, "I bet Ducky would say it's okay."

She didn't think Gibbs would hear but he did. "Oh, you think so? Call him and ask, then. If he agrees then I will let you."

Abby groaned inwardly. "No, Gibbs, that's not –"

"Call him." This was clearly an order, so she called Ducky on the speaker phone and timidly asked.

"Abigail," he replied, "you know that's not a good idea. You're carrying precious cargo and I am sure you don't want to endanger our little Duckling." His voice was gentle and persuasive, and Abby gave in with a sigh.

"No, I don't. I hope you can come home too, Duckman."

"Give me 15 minutes," he agreed.

This scenario repeated itself about once a week, whenever the workload was high and Abby became caught up in frustration. But in the end she always agreed to go home.

About three weeks after Abby returned to work, she received a call from Jenny. The Director sounded excited and breathless. "Abby, I have great news!"

Abby smiled. "Gibbs asked you to marry him."

"How did you know? Did he tell you?"

"Nope. I'm psychic." She giggled a bit. "I've always had ESP with Gibbs. Well, not always. But a lot of the time. You know how he often walks into the lab right when I get an answer, don't you?"

Jenny wasn't sure she liked the idea of Abby and Gibbs having some sort of psychic connection, but she brushed it off, and instead she said, "Don't tell anyone else yet. You're the first person I've told."

"I can't even tell Ducky?" Abby asked unhappily.

"Yes, you can tell him. Just not anyone else." Abby could hear from her voice that Jenny was smiling. "I want to talk to you and Ziva later about wedding plans."

"Great! How about a vintage wedding dress? I've seen some gorgeous ones at…"

"Abby."

She stopped. "Yes, Director?"

"I'm afraid I have work to do right now, but you can tell me later."

"Okay. Bye."

For several minutes Abby sat staring at her computer without really seeing it. She was very happy for Jenny – she had very little if any jealousy – at least with regard to Gibbs. However, she was envious that they were getting married.

A year before, if anyone had told her she would want to get married in the near future she would have given them a piece of her mind. There was no way she wanted to marry any of the unfortunate matches she had made in the past. But Ducky was different. She remembered the day when Mrs. Mallard had asked if she had missed the wedding. Ducky had replied that they weren't married yet, but he hoped they would be soon.

So, she wondered, why hadn't he asked her? Maybe he wanted assurance that she would say yes. She smiled, wondering what more she could do – short of proposing to him herself – to tell him what she wanted.

She decided that she would wait another month before taking matters into her own hands.


	31. Chapter 31

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 31

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

That night, as they cuddled in bed, Abby told Ducky the news about the Director and Gibbs. Ducky smiled. "Yes, Jethro stopped by this afternoon to tell me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Abby allowed herself a little pout. "You knew for a long time."

"My dear, apparently you did as well," he pointed out. "I'm sure we each had our reasons for waiting."

"You're right, Duckman, as usual." Abby took a deep breath. "So what do you think about their engagement?" she asked tentatively.

In the darkness he could not see her face, so he only had her voice to rely on. "I think they have made the best decision," he replied slowly. "Jethro has been alone too long."

Did she imagine it, or was there a personal element in his words? Did she really hear longing in his voice? "Yes, he has," she said softly. "And he's not the only one."

Ducky had excellent hearing, only slightly diminished by aging, but even though he lay right next to her, the last comment was so soft he could not discern it. "What did you say, my dear?"

"I agreed that Gibbs has been alone too long."

"And after that?"

She hesitated for a moment, then plunged ahead. "He's not the only person who's been alone too long."

Ducky was taken aback; this wasn't what he originally thought she had said. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Do you mean me, dearest, or yourself? Or both, perhaps?" He was glad now that he couldn't see her face.

"Both," she acknowledged. "Am I right?"

"Yes, you are certainly right about me," he replied, with a little chuckle. "Of course, we are together now, whether we have that piece of paper or not. However, I expect making it official can produce a stronger bond. What do you think?"

"Oh, I agree completely, Duckman."

He wanted to ask her then and there, but decided he would rather have a more romantic occasion for the formal proposal. Still, he could let her know his intentions. "I have no doubt, my Abigail, that we will have a very happy marriage."

With a sigh, she let go the breath she had been holding, and snuggled tighter against him. She yawned, then murmured, "I think you are right, Ducky. I can't wait." Another yawn and her breathing gradually grew more even. She had fallen asleep, as if she had been waiting for his response about marrying her before she would let herself sleep.

Ducky tucked the covers around them, holding Abby close, then fell asleep himself with a sigh of contentment.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

That same night, another couple lay entwined in their bed – perhaps their ears were burning since Abby and Ducky were talking about them.

Jenny was upset because she had received a disciplinary warning from SecNav – because of her pregnancy, they said, she had made decisions based on her feelings rather than on objective fact. "And that's total bullshit, don't you think so?" When he didn't answer immediately, she added, "Jethro?"

"Well, it's mostly bullshit," he agreed, "but there have been a few times that I've felt your hormones misled you into decisions that were not the best."

She was incensed. "Jethro! Whose side are you on? Mine or theirs?"

"Jen."

The calm in his voice brought her down a notch or two emotionally, and prevented further escalation. "Yes?"

"Do you remember when we caught that lieutenant who was a child molester?"

She groaned. "Don't remind me; I feel sick any time I think of it."

"You had a strong emotional reaction. Did it affect your handling of the case?"

For a moment she said nothing. Then, "This all seems very sexist."

"It's only sexist if it is not truthful."

"Okay, okay," she admitted. "There were a few times I messed up. But I don't see why they should put me on leave just because –"

She stopped speaking so suddenly that he thought something was wrong. "Jen? You all right?"

"Shh," she answered. After a minute or so she grabbed one of his hands and placed it firmly against her belly. "Can you feel that?" she asked, her voice full of wonder.

He concentrated hard, and finally felt a slight flutter. He knew what it was; he had felt it before with Shannon. "It's the baby," he said, quite unnecessarily.

"I know. This is the first time I've felt him move."

"We don't know for sure if it's a him."

"I know, but I think it is. But I'll be very happy regardless." She was silent for a few more minutes. "It's so unbelievable! I mean, I knew there was a baby inside me, but I didn't know – I didn't feel it was actually real until now."

"I know, Jen. It's a wonderful feeling," he said, trying not to sound awkward, but having mixed emotions of sadness about Shannon & Kelly as well as happiness and excitement for this baby.

She could hear it in his voice. "What was it like before, Jethro?" she asked quietly.

"Not important."

"Yes, it is," she insisted. "Please tell me."

He sighed almost noiselessly. "Tomorrow."

"Promise?"

"My word as a Marine."

"Okay," she agreed. She snuggled closer to him, and soon they were both asleep, the problem with SecNav forgotten.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Three weeks later, Ducky and Jake noticed that Abby seemed strangely preoccupied. After this state of affairs continued an entire week, Ducky decided to find out what it was about.

That evening, as they were cleaning up after dinner, he asked casually, "Something on your mind, Abigail?"

"Always, Ducky," she answered with a smile. "Why do you ask?"

"You've been noticeably pensive lately."

"Yes, that's true." Abby wondered whether she should share what was bothering her. Finally she admitted, "Ducky, I'm worried about the baby. Especially about genetic problems."

"Oh, I see." He knew that her parents' deafness was hereditary, and that Abby had a brother who was hard of hearing. "Would you like to find out?"

She nodded. "That's what I've been thinking. I could have amniocentesis and then we'd know. We can be more prepared."

Ducky set down the plate he was drying, then took her in his arms and held her close. "Do you mean learning sign language, my dear?"

"Yes, and some other important things like Deaf culture. I think you could get the basic vocabulary even before the baby's born."

He lifted her right hand and kissed it. "I think we should do the amnio," he said quietly, "because despite your confidence in me, I will need as much time as possible. I will do whatever necessary to be the best father I can be."

Abby leaned over and kissed his forehead. "You're such an understanding and loving man, Ducky," she whispered, "How did I ever get so lucky?"

Still holding her hand, he placed both of their hands on her belly. "I'm the lucky one, dear Abigail." Slowly bringing his lips to hers, they kissed gently but fervently. When they broke apart for air, Ducky asked, "Would you care to dance, dearest?"

"Yes, but the dishes –" she protested.

He stopped her with a finger on her lips. "They aren't going anywhere. Let me put on the music."

They went into the main living area, and Ducky dimmed the lights and put on the recording. Shortly the room was filled with the rich, sensuous voice of Nat King Cole singing "Unforgettable." As they slow-danced, Ducky hummed at first, then softly sang along. "That's why darling it's incredible, that someone so unforgettable thinks that I am unforgettable too."

A thrill of pleasure ran down Abby's back and she shivered slightly. "Ducky," she breathed, her warm breath bathing his ear and neck, causing him to shiver too. They held each other even tighter as the song continued.

When it was finished, Abby started to move away, but he stopped her long enough for the next song, "The Very Thought of You," to begin. She came closer again and sighed. "This is heaven," she murmured.

He felt a lump of happiness in his throat and could only respond, "Yes, dear."

They danced for over an hour, forgetting everything except each other. When the CD ended, Ducky whispered in her ear, and Abby smiled. "Yes," she agreed.

They turned off the lights and walked upstairs – slowly, because it's difficult to climb while kissing passionately – but finally they reached their bedroom. Ducky put on the same CD.

As the music played, they slowly removed each other's clothing, while Ducky kissed Abby's cheeks, forehead, ears, neck, and shoulders. When they were both naked, he turned her around and she shivered again as he sensitized areas of her shoulders and back. Gently at first, he bit and sucked at her upper back and neck, resulting in whimpers of need from Abby. "Duckman," she murmured.

He reached down to check her level of arousal, and as he had guessed, she was quite ready for him. He barely stroked her and she cried out in pleasure. "Ducky, darling," she whispered, "I need you."

"Mmm," he responded, moving her closer to the bed. He laid her down carefully, her back still towards him. Continuing his assault on her neck and shoulders, he touched her breast with one hand and tweaked her nipple, which hardened instantly. Abby gasped and reached behind her, seeking his arousal, and when she found it she took a firm hold, causing him to move his hips reflexively. She moved one leg slightly, and taking her cue, he slipped inside her from behind (they had been told this was a safer position during pregnancy).

Abby pushed her hips backward, taking him in all the way, relishing the pressure that resulted from this unusual angle. "Oh God," she murmured.

"No, just me," he whispered with a chuckle as he moved inside her with increasing speed. She turned her head so they could kiss. He continued to caress her breasts, a little more roughly now. When he felt her tightening around him, he reached down to find her "sweet spot."

Again she gasped. "Ducky!" she cried, as waves of pleasure traveled through her body.

He couldn't help but let go, his hips pounding against hers as they both found release. Gradually he slowed, then she turned to face him. "Sweetheart," she said with a smile.

He was surprised; she had never called him that before. "Yes, my dear?"

"That was awesome."

"I agree wholeheartedly, Abigail. Although you have never failed to be awesome."

"Thanks, Ducky. And same to you." She sighed and her eyelids fluttered closed. "I love you, sweetheart." In less than a minute she was asleep.

He kissed her forehead gently, then, with his arm protecting her belly, he was lulled into sleep beside her.


	32. Chapter 32

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 32

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

Abby and Ziva planned a shopping trip for Jenny's wedding dress on the following weekend.

"I do not know about wedding dress stores here," Ziva said as they drove to the house in Georgetown. "But I feel sure that you do, Abby."

"Not specifically wedding dresses," Abby acknowledged, "but dresses in general, yes. I know several little shops that sell vintage dresses as well as unique styles from other countries. I just know we'll find something Jenny likes at one of them."

Ziva smiled. "Are you looking as well?"

Abby gave her friend a sidelong glance and a mysterious smile. "I don't know. We'll see."

"Liar."

Abby chuckled. "Honestly, I don't know for sure."

"So he hasn't asked you yet?" Ziva said as they got out of the car.

"Not as such," Abby said slowly. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to give away – after all, she did know they would get married, she just wasn't sure when.

"You mean he has hinted but not officially proposed?"

Just then the door opened and Jenny stepped out, shrugging her coat onto her shoulders. "Who hasn't proposed?"

Before Abby could even reply, Ziva said, "Ducky hasn't." Abby could feel the heat creating a flush on her cheeks.

"Really? Not yet? I'll get Jethro to talk to him," Jenny said firmly.

"No, no, don't," Abby said. "He will, he more or less said he will. He just wants to catch me when I'm not expecting it, that's all."

Smiling merrily, Ziva said, "You're blushing, Abby."

"So when are you getting married, Ziva?" Abby retorted.

"I think she wants to play the field awhile longer," said Jenny.

"Play the field" was a new idiom for Ziva, so she asked "What field?"

Jenny and Abby laughed, then explained this expression as Abby drove to the first shop.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The wedding was scheduled for two weeks later (since the dress hunt was successful) and as Jenny sat with her attendants in the bride room of St. Cecilia's, she felt the baby moving strongly. Already she knew she was going to cry.

"Are you all right, Jen?" asked Ziva worriedly.

She smiled and nodded while her cousin Erin answered for her. "She's fine, Ziva – just happy."

Ziva felt a tinge of envy, but then she remembered how long her friend had waited for this to happen. "I'm happy too," she said softly, her hand on Jenny's arm.

Abby was bouncing around, her eyes dancing, in spite of the extra weight she was carrying. "I'm so excited!" she exclaimed.

"Goodness, Abby, what will you be like when it's your own wedding?" Jenny asked.

She stopped bouncing momentarily, and her face was suddenly solemn. "Very, very happy, I'm sure." A second later she was back to her high-energy self, but they knew they'd seen a glimpse of the deep love between Abby and Ducky.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The reception was held at the Ritz Carlton (suggested by Abby because of the beluga caviar). The ballroom was decorated in Navy blue and ivory, Jenny's chosen colors. Each table had 3 ivory roses in a vase on an ivory tablecloth with Navy blue place mats and napkins.

Jenny was still in such a whirlwind that she paid no attention to the decorations, but video and pictures would help her recall it later. She and Jethro stood at the door, greeting the guests, and when everyone had arrived they took their places at the wedding table for a delicious 4-course meal.

When most people had finished eating, Ducky stood to make a toast to the new Gibbs family, but what he said was not was everyone expected.

"Please bear with me for a moment," he said as Gibbs reached in his pocket and handed something to his friend. "There is someone I need to speak to before I make the toast." He turned to Abby, who was seated on the other side of Jenny. "Abigail Sciuto, will you marry me?"

Abby's eyes grew wide with surprise, but a big smile accompanied them as she stood up. "Yes, Donald Mallard, I will marry you." He reached across and slid the ring onto her finger, then kissed her hand.

Abby felt tingles all over her body and suddenly wished the reception would end soon so they could go home. The guests clapped for them and she sat down, still a bit dazed.

She didn't hear the toast even though her eyes never left the face of her new fiancé.


	33. Chapter 33

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 33

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable

Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.

On Monday after the wedding, Abby and Ducky went to the geneticist for the results of the amniocentesis.

"Are you nervous, dearest?" Ducky asked, noticing her fast, shallow breathing as they sat in the waiting room.

"It's just the suspense – once we know I'll be fine – but until then I'm going to be anxious. I didn't sleep well last night," she added.

"I know, Abigail. I knew you were still awake, but you were trying so hard to pretend you were asleep, that I thought it best not to disturb you."

Abby's face started to cloud up, but suddenly she smiled. "I guess that means you couldn't sleep either?"

Before he could answer, an assistant called them and led them to the doctor's office.

"Come on in," Dr. Welch said. "Have a seat."

Abby and Ducky sat on the couch close together, and Ducky took her hand firmly in his.

"First I want to say that genetics is not an exact science," the doctor began. "Sometimes a person has a certain gene that will, in most people, cause a problem. But due to other factors, the genotype may not be expressed in the phenotype."

Since they were familiar with the terminology, Abby and Ducky nodded.

"So we can't be certain about this. However –" she handed them a gene chart, similar to but more detailed than the ones Abby used in the lab, "—your baby does have the gene for x-linked deafness, as you suspected."

Abby was solemn but not visibly upset. "So we're having a boy?" she asked.

"Yes. After he's born we'll do further testing to determine the exact nature of his hearing loss." The doctor smiled. "I must say that you two don't seem surprised or bothered by this."

"No, because we knew there was a strong possibility," Ducky replied, squeezing Abby's hand. "We know now what we need to do in order to parent him the best we can."

"My mom and dad will be excited," Abby said with a little smile.

"Excellent. Now, let's go over the rest of the gene chart and I'll tell you about the things he doesn't have."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As they were driving home, Abby had an idea. "Let's go by the Deaf Center, Ducky. We can find out about ASL classes and other fun stuff."

"Just direct me where to turn, my dear."

The Deaf Center was not far from Gallaudet University, the school for the Deaf. Abby kept up a stream of chatter as they drove.

"Ducky, did you know that DC has one of the largest Deaf and hard of hearing communities in the U.S.? Of course it's mostly because of Gallaudet. I've been to events there that are interpreted; some sign interpreters have such distinctive styles that you can easily tell emotions from the way they sign. So graceful. I don't have that, I'm just good enough to communicate. I'd like to get better though. Oh, turn right! Sorry, Ducky, I didn't give you enough warning. Anyway, next time there's an event I'll introduce you to my friends. Today you can meet my friends that work at the Center."

Ducky smiled. He knew that Abby would have many friends, just as she did at NCIS. Her sense of joy and her desire to live life fully made her appealing to almost everyone. "But I'm the one she comes home to," he thought almost smugly.

The Deaf Center was a two story building half a block wide. Ducky didn't care for its modern architecture, but then he wasn't modern himself in some ways. They walked in to see a reception desk with two women seated; Abby immediately began to sign, then embraced each of them briefly. Ducky moved forward, and for him she spoke as well as signed. "This is my fiancé, Dr. Mallard. Go ahead and say hello, Ducky, they can read your lips."

"Oh. Yes. Hello, I'm glad to meet you." He shook each of their hands.

"This is Bella, and this is Martina. I've known them for almost as long as I've been in DC." Turning back to her friends, she said, "We came to find out about ASL classes since we found out our baby may be Deaf or hard of hearing."

"Very good," said Bella. Ducky noted that her voice had the same tone as many Deaf people he had met before. She articulated clearly and her speech was easily intelligible. He wondered briefly why she used sign when she could get by with speech and lip reading. He would ask Abby about it later.

Bella rummaged around in some papers on the desk, then found what she was looking for and gave it to Ducky.

"Here's our schedule for this month. You can start with any of the beginner classes."

"Great, thanks!"

"Why don't you two come to the birthday party this month," Martina suggested. "It's Friday night."

Abby glanced at Ducky, who nodded. "Sure, we'll be there! See you then. We have to get back to work."

As they walked away, Abby wondered if her friends had noticed the gorgeous ring on her third finger – a gold Celtic love knot with a pearl in the center. She smiled to herself – considered the attention they paid to her hands, it was almost certain that they did! Maybe that was why Martina had looked back and forth between them before inviting them to the party –

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Back at NCIS, Tony had gone all the way to Abby's lab before he remembered she was coming in late that day. Since he was there, however, he decided to enjoy a new piece of art she had created – "Death by Meat" – which featured someone's digestive system with 3 embedded meat bullets. "Nice colors," he said to himself.

Suddenly he heard a soft "whoosh", then the opening of the elevator doors. Someone had been in the lab with him! Whoever it was, they were probably not entitled to be there. He started to run for the stairs, but stopped cold when he saw something on the evidence table.

A crushed black rose lay on top of a large photograph, evidently taken at the wedding on Saturday. The person who had left it clearly wanted Abby to know his or her intention: the picture of Abby and Ducky kissing included a large red 'X' over Abby's new fiancé.

"Mikel Mawher?" he whispered to himself. "Or someone else?" After a pause, he opened his phone to contact security.


	34. Chapter 34

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 34

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable, Bloodbath

A/N: After writing the end of the last chapter, I realized I had reversed the order of 'Bloodbath' and 'Untouchable.' Since this story becomes AU after 'Untouchable,' let's assume that 'Bloodbath' and Mikel Mawher came before.

Tony called security as he climbed the staircase, hoping to catch the intruder leaving the elevator at the ground floor. But the elevator was empty and the lobby security chief, Mark Richmond, reported that no one had passed through his area except the normal, vetted personnel.

"What about deliveries?" asked Tony as he headed for the lobby. Before Richmond could answer, Tony burst through the door, close enough now to talk without the phone.

"Three deliveries in the past hour," Richmond said, consulting the log.

"We need – to check – the cameras," Tony panted, trying to recover his breath. He still sometimes felt the aftereffects of his bout with pneumonic plague.

"I'll have Payton pull the files. What happened, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Someone was in the lab and left a threatening photograph." Tony had forgotten he was still carrying the crushed rose and the photo. He handed the latter to the security officer.

"Any ideas on who it might be? Do you think it's related to a case, or something personal?"

"If it's a case, there are a lot of people it could be," Tony replied. "But my guess is that it's personal, given the rose and the picture being taken at the wedding. May be one of Abby's exes; she had stalkers before. In fact, there was one not too long ago, but he's in prison – supposedly."

Behind Richmond, his assistant, Payton, said, "I have the videos, Agent DiNozzo, and I'm sending them to your computer."

"Thanks. I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Same here."

Tony returned to the bullpen, uneasily thinking that because Gibbs was gone for the next few days, the task of protecting Ducky and Abby lay upon his own shoulders. Ziva and Probie would help but ultimately it was Tony's responsibility.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Abby and Ducky returned home after their visit to the doctor and the Deaf center. They were surprised to find a security detail there; the lead officer told them he didn't know what was going on, but they had been sent by Agent DiNozzo.

Before they even entered the house, Ducky had Tony on speed dial. He was quiet for awhile, listening to the explanation, then said, "I understand. Thank you, Anthony."

Abby turned, surprised at the tension in her fiance's voice. "Duckman?"

"It appears, my dear, that we have a problem," he said slowly, trying not to sound as disturbed as he felt. "Someone is not happy about our engagement."

Abby stared at him, fear rising in her throat. "What do you mean?" She moved closer to him, her eyes wide and her arms hugging herself tightly.

Ducky took her in his arms and held her close, gently conveying the message from Tony.  
"Don't worry, my dear," he finished. "We have the security officers watching out for us, and the best team at NCIS working to catch whoever is responsible."

She didn't reply, and he finally pulled back, concerned. She was staring into space.

"What is it, my love?"

The corners of her mouth crept up, and unknowingly mimicking Jenny, she took Ducky's hand and placed it on her swelling abdomen. "He's moving," she whispered, awed.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Jethro felt utterly relaxed as he and his new wife lay cuddling on the sofa in front of the fireplace of their mountain cabin.

"Do you remember Serbia?" Jenny asked, glancing up at him with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Why do you think I got this cabin for our honeymoon?" He kissed her cheek tenderly. "One of the best weeks of my life."

"Mine too."

"Jen, I want to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"What happened to birth control? Thought you were on the pill."

She could tell from his tone that the question was genuine curiosity, and not a reproach, so she chuckled. "The pill is dangerous after 40," she said simply. "My GYN advised me to stop taking it – I wasn't having sexual relationships anyway, so there seemed no reason to continue." She hesitated a moment, then added, "The day you asked me to stay with you, I was so concerned about your mental state that I didn't even think about telling you to use protection."

"Can't say I'm sorry," he admitted, his hand around what used to be her waist.

She began to kiss down his neck and across his collarbone, gradually changing to nip and suck at his skin. He groaned, feeling himself growing aroused yet again, and his hips jerked when she suddenly grasped his erection. "Jen," he breathed.

He touched her warm, wet center in return and they pleasured each other with their hands, first slowly then passionately as they reached release.

They were coming down from the high when she suddenly sat up and cried out in pain.

"Jen?" he asked, alarmed.

She couldn't form words; she could only clutch her abdomen and cry at first. Finally she choked out, "Not – right – baby – hurts." Then to his great distress, she fell limp against the cushions.

He quickly turned on a light, and then he noticed the wet spot growing between her legs. It wasn't blood, so he guessed that her water had broken. "Jen – Jen. Wake up." He shook her gently and she moaned, but did not wake.

It hurt to breathe and he felt he was moving in thick molasses. He didn't bother calling an ambulance; they were so far out it would be too late by the time help arrived. He cursed himself for choosing such a remote spot and bundled her in blankets, then carried her to the jeep they had rented. He began driving down the mountain at a speed that most people would consider far too fast. But this was Gibbs, and he was terrified. He knew he could not face losing another wife and child.


	35. Chapter 35

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 35

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable, Bloodbath

Gibbs was glad that Jenny had opened her eyes once or twice during the drive, but when they finally reached the hospital she was again unconscious. The emergency room was not busy that night, thankfully, so she was quickly placed on a gurney and wheeled inside.

Gibbs wanted to stay close to her, but he was caught by a nurse who needed information. He gave her a sixty-second report, then left to find out where they had taken Jenny.

"Mr. Gibbs!" the nurse called after him. "I need –"

"I need to see my wife!" he shouted over his shoulder. "If you want more information, come with me."

She caught up with him just as he reached the curtained area where Jenny was surrounded by medical personnel. They had already inserted an IV and two doctors were examining her. One of them turned. "Are you her husband?"

Gibbs nodded, swallowing hard.

"We need to deliver the baby as soon as possible. Will you consent to an emergency C-section?"

"Yes," he replied hoarsely. "Do whatever you have to."

"Good." He turned back to the others. "Take her to any available OR and have the OB on call meet us there. Prep her for C-section."

"I want to be with her," Gibbs said suddenly. "What do I need to do?"

"Follow them and scrub in. You'll have to stay behind the curtain."

Gibbs didn't care. He just wanted to be with the woman he loved.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

That evening, Tim called to report on the surveillance tapes. "So far we haven't found anything," he admitted. "I don't know what to think; We know what time Tony was in the lab, but we can't find any suspicious activity around that time."

"Maybe he's an expert on security cameras?" Abby said.

"Could be. We'll keep looking, anyway. Say, has the security shift changed yet?"

Ducky glanced out the window. "They appear to be changing right now."

"Good, I'll give the first shift a call." He hesitated a moment. "Be very careful, Abby," he added, the concern evident in his voice.

Abby smiled. "We will, Tim. Talk to you tomorrow morning." She hung up the phone and turned towards her beloved.

"Well, my dear, are we ready for dinner?"

"Sure am, Ducky." She patted her stomach. "I think Junior is having fun with his kicking."

"Perhaps he will become a football player," Ducky joked.

"Like an _American_ football player, or a _rest-of-the-world_ football player?" She grinned, her emerald eyes twinkling.

"British, of course," he replied with a smile and a wink.

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The next morning they were almost ready to leave for work – Ducky had already climbed into the driver's seat of his Morgan, and Abby was about to do so. She was rambling about decorating the nursery.

"I think that our baby would like something different from all the other kids," she mused. "I saw a sugar skulls bedding set on ebay –"

"A what, Abigail?"

"Sugar skulls are skull shaped candies used for the Mexican Day of the –"

Ducky inserted the key, then stopped when he realized she wasn't talking. "What's wrong?"

She was staring at something on the floor. "Ducky…. you should very carefully open your door and get out of the car. I'm going to do the same. We should move very slowly. And don't close the doors."

He stared at her curiously, but did what she asked. She walked backwards from the car, motioning him to join her.

After they had moved away about 20 feet, she said, "Can you get your mother and her nurse out of the house? I'm going to call EOD, then talk to our security guys."

"Why EO – oh. _Oh_." The true nature of the situation was sinking into his brain. After that he moved quickly.

When he came out, Mrs. Mallard and her nurse in tow, he asked, "What did you see?"

"Wires," she answered, "and part of what looked like a pipe bomb. Someone wasn't very careful when they planted it."

"Maybe they didn't realize that you ride with me to work, and thought that putting the bomb on the passenger side would hide it."

"I'm not sure they are that stupid," Abby mused. After a moment, she blinked several times to clear her vision. "You know, dearest, I wonder how the bomb was planted right under the nose of our security guards."

That was, indeed, the million dollar question.


	36. Chapter 36

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 36

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable, Bloodbath

Even though Jenny was under anesthesia, Gibbs kept talking to her and caressing her hair and face while the surgery was done. He couldn't watch the doctors work; between the curtain and the medical personnel his view was blocked. So he concentrated on Jenny, until he heard a tiny wail.

He looked up and saw a doctor carrying what looked like a baby monkey over to a table with bright lights. It took a moment for him to realize that this was their son. He was appalled at the baby's slight form; Gibbs didn't know that babies usually spent the last month before birth gaining weight.

He tried to look at the warming table, but again the doctors and nurses were in his way. "How is he?" he asked urgently.

"Sir, please move back behind the curtain."

"I want to see my son. I have to know that he's all right."

A woman detached herself from the circle around the baby and moved towards him. "He's doing very well for a 32-week baby. He is able to breathe and cry just like a full-term baby. He's very thin, but we will correct that soon." She smiled at Gibbs. "Do you have a name picked out?"

"Jasper Jackson Gibbs," he replied hoarsely. "Where are they taking him?"

"To the newborn ICU. All premature babies go there, even if they seem fine. The equipment and personnel available there can mean the difference between life and death if something goes wrong." Gibbs nodded. "You can go see him when the surgery is over."

"It's not over yet? What else is there to do?" he asked, alarmed.

The woman spoke quietly to one of the doctors working on Jenny. "They are putting her uterus back together, Mr. Gibbs."

"Just Gibbs," he said from force of habit.

"Okay. Anyway, your wife had a tear in her uterus; this is why she felt so much pain. She also lost a good deal of blood, but we're replacing it."

"Will she be all right?" he asked, his voice growing softer at the end.

The nurse looked at him and saw eyes that were on the brink of death, windows into the soul of a person who couldn't take much more. "They are very good surgeons. There is no reason to expect anything other than a full recovery," she reassured him.

He relaxed just a bit, just enough that she could see it, then returned to his post behind the curtains.

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"Are you sure that Mikel is still in prison?" Abby fretted, while walking up and down the sidewalk.

"Yes, Abby, we're positive," said McGee, back at NCIS. "He may have an accomplice, but he didn't physically do it."

Just then one of the EOD workers came up to Ducky, holding the pipe bomb. "Hold on, McGee." She hurried to Ducky's side.

"—can see that it isn't actually a bomb, although it certainly looks like one. It was meant to be found. Here's a note that was attached." He held up a piece of paper that said: "Are you afraid yet?"

A chill went up and down Ducky's spine. He knew enough about the psychology of killers to realize that this would only escalate until one or both of them was hurt, or NCIS caught the culprit. He hoped it would be the latter.

"The bomb is fake?" Abby was incredulous. "I don't get this, Ducky."

He really didn't want to explain the psychology to her unless he had to. "I believe the individual who planted this – let's call him or her the stalker – is more concerned with instilling fear than with causing actual damage." _At least so far_, he thought.

He could tell she wasn't happy with his explanation; perhaps she sensed it was not complete. "I hope that's it," she murmured. "What comes next?"

The EOD worker wasn't concerned about sparing Abby's feelings. "He may continue along this line, attempting to frighten you, or he may escalate until he does something dangerous." Ducky glared at him.

Abby nodded. "I see."

"Dearest, I think you should remain at home until this is over."

"No! They know I am here, and apparently they can get through security. Both of us will be better off at NCIS."

He conceded her point, and once the Morgan had been thoroughly searched for any further dangers, he and Abby climbed in again and made it to the Navy Yard in record time. Although there was a car behind them and another in front the whole trip, Ducky did not relish the thought of an "accident" – his car was too easily recognized.

When they arrived, they found that the building had been searched and extra guards were posted in the morgue and in Abby's lab. But before going to their underground workplaces, they stopped in the bullpen to meet with Gibbs' three agents.

They found that only McGee was there, but he briefed them on developments. "Tony's at the prison where Mikel Mawher is, checking visitor records and examining his cell. Ziva is at your house collecting trace evidence. Did you bring the car into the evidence garage?"

"Why, no," Ducky replied with surprise. "I didn't even think about it. I was just concerned with keeping Abby safe."

McGee gave him an understanding smile. "I can take it in for you. I just need the keys."

"No! No," Ducky said hastily, remembering what Gerald had done to his car 2 years before. "I'll move it myself. Thank you, Timothy." He left quickly.

"Abby, I'm really worried."

"I know, Timmy. What have you been able to find out?" She knew there was more he wanted to say, but she also knew it would just make things more difficult if he said it.

"Uh – well – we think we found something on the security cameras in your lab."

"Really? What?"

"Nothing very helpful – just a green blur, but it was there around the time Tony was. In fact, whoever it was darted right past him."

"A green blur… hmm," Abby's eyes glazed over as she considered the possibilities. "What about the guest log? Did any kind of delivery person wearing green log in?"

"No," Tim replied with a sigh. "We're trying to check if he could have entered any other place."

"Not the evidence garage; there's just as much security there as the main entrance."

"Yeah."

They were both silent for several minutes, then Abby asked, "Do all deliveries go through the main entrance? What about large quantities, like refilling the soda machine?"

McGee looked dumbfounded for a moment, then his expression cleared. "The loading dock in the back." He hit himself on the back of the head. "What was I thinking? I didn't even check there."

Abby smiled. "It's not too late."

Just then Ducky exited the elevator. "Are you ready, Abigail?"

"Yes." She leaned over and gave McGee a peck on the cheek. "See you later, Timmy."

In the elevator, Ducky pulled the emergency stop and stood looking at her, one eyebrow raised.

"I was trying to make him feel better," Abby explained. "You know how much I love you, sweetheart."

"Show me," he said roughly, taking her in his arms and kissing her passionately.

She moaned against his mouth, opening her lips for his exploration. After awhile she was pushing him towards the wall, feeling the desire grow stronger with every second. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, he pulled away. "Yes, that will do," he told her with a smile.

She was panting as she hit him playfully on the arm. "You tease!"

"As if you have never…."

"That has nothing to do with it." She started the elevator again, and when they reached the level of her lab, she reluctantly stepped off, blowing him a kiss. "Love you."

"I love you, Abigail."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Jenny woke to extreme nausea and an empty feeling. Although there was little in her stomach but gastric juices, she gagged as they climbed her esophagus.

Two nurses quickly moved to help her. One turned her on her side so she would not aspirate, and the other held a basin below her mouth. She coughed painfully and spat into the basin, falling backward as she ran out of energy.

"Let me get you some ice chips," the first nurse said. Jenny couldn't read the name on the nurse's badge because her vision was too blurry, but she hoped she looked thankful.

The second nurse raised the head of the bed so that aspiration was less likely, then took her vital signs.

There followed an indeterminate period of time during which she felt she had died and gone to hell. Everything hurt, she could barely moved, she had two IV's and the nausea continued to assault her in waves.

Eventually she progressed back to life and only wished that she were dead. She wondered where Jethro was, and then wondered why she was in the hospital. Her anesthetic-soaked brain had just begun to work out what happened when she saw Jethro sit down beside her bed.

"Jethro," she croaked, her throat and lips still too dry to talk properly.

"Shhh, it's okay, Jen. They're taking good care of you and the baby."

"Baby?"

"Yeah. Do you remember?"

She closed her eyes and thought. "I think so."

"He's in the newborn ICU. I've just been there and he's doing well. Mainly he's just skinny."

"But he's early." She was having trouble comprehending all this.

"Yes, eight weeks. That's why he's skinny. They tell me he will probably gain weight quickly." He looked a bit sheepish, in spite of being Gibbs. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you first woke up."

"It's okay. Can you get me more ice chips?" She looked at the pitcher on her bed table.

"Sure, Jen. I'll be right back." He leaned over and kissed her cheek, then whispered, "I love you."

He was gone before she managed to reply, but that was okay. He knew already.


	37. Chapter 37

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 37

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable, Bloodbath

Tony DiNozzo was generally known to be a ladies man, macho but not too aggressive. However, at this moment his hands were clenched and he was thankful for the thick plexiglass separating him from Mikel Mawher. If it had not been there, Tony would have murdered him by now.

"Do you realize how much danger you have put Abby in, _again_, with your stupid talk?" he raged. "If she gets hurt or killed, I'm coming after you as well as this Mercer person."

"I know, I know. It's my fault." Mawher hung his head, to all appearances very penitent. "I've learned better now. Telling Mercer about NCIS, well, that was a slip. I didn't think he'd actually go after her. I thought he really loved her."

"Like I said, stupid." Tony took a deep breath. "Now, tell me everything you know about Mercer – _everything_."

"He was totally obsessed with Abby. That's all he ever wanted to talk about. No matter how many times I told him about the straitjacket, the restraining order, all that – it didn't matter. He begged for more information about her. I was glad when he was released, to tell the truth. I was starting to feel crazy myself."

"Again, you mean?" Tony couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Okay, so he was obsessed with Abby. It must have been contagious. So what does he look like?"

"Short blonde hair," Mikel recited almost mechanically, "brown eyes, about 5'6", medium build, big nose, a tattoo of a horse on his upper left arm. Mercer looks tough in spite of his height." He thought a moment. "Oh, and he has a deep voice."

Tony had been taking notes. "Anything else? Where's he from? Does he have an accent?"

"He told me he was from Canada, but I didn't believe it. He sounded more like he came from the south – the southwest." He paused again. "I remember a couple aliases he said he used before."

"And?" Tony urged.

"Uh, Steven Dodgson, and…. Tyler Thomas."

"Is that all?" Mawher nodded. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Well, if you think of anything else, call me." He passed his business card through the small hole in the plexiglass and quickly left.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Jake Watson was firing a reference weapon in the ballistics room when Abby walked in. He quickly removed his protective earmuffs and went to the outer room to greet her.

"I thought you would be here earlier."

"We stopped upstairs to talk," explained Abby.

"Any news?"

"Just the green blur on the security video. What are you working on?"

"Souther's team caught a case, typical dead Marine. No, I shouldn't say that; there is no typical Marine, living or dead."

She smiled briefly, then her brow furrowed again. "What can I do to help you?"

"Nothing right now."

"Jake, I really need something to take my mind off this mess. Isn't there –"

Ziva interrupted her by walking in carrying several bags of evidence. "Do not touch this evidence, Abby." She handed the chain of custody forms to Jake and he signed them.

"As if!" Abby said hotly. "You know I wouldn't –"

"Yes, Abby." Ziva's voice was gentle and soothing. "I know you wouldn't." She turned to Jake and winked. "If there's no work for Abby, perhaps she could help Dr. Mallard?"

"That would be great," said Jake, trying to conceal his relief. "I'll call you if something comes in, okay?"

Abby nodded, half reluctantly and half happily. She would rather spend her time with Ducky anyway.

"I'll go down with you," Ziva offered.

A few moments later they walked into autopsy where Ducky and Palmer were just beginning the post on the dead Marine.

"Do you know the origins of the word 'marine,' Mr. Palmer?" Ducky was saying as he cut into the body.

"No, Dr. Mallard, I don't," Palmer replied nervously.

"Its root is the Latin 'mare', meaning 'sea.' Just like the seas on the Moon. From Latin it became 'marine' in Old French, then into Middle English 'marin.'"

"And then Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote 'the Rime of the Ancient Mariner,'" added Abby with a smile as she and Ziva walked in.

"Yes." He looked at her curiously. "Why are –"

"There was no work in the lab except for your case, which she cannot work on."

"Yeah, Ziva and Jake thought I would go to pieces if I had nothing to occupy my time." Abby walked over to him and kissed him on his right ear, carefully avoiding the mess that usually surrounds an autopsy.

"Do you think, my dear, that perhaps they could be correct?" He gave her the lopsided smile she loved so dearly.

"Goodbye," called Ziva as she left.

"Bye."

"Can I help?" Abby asked eagerly, putting on a gown and face mask.

"Come over here and we'll see." She saw that they had completed the Y-incision and were removing the organs one by one.

"That's a nasty liver," she commented, with a shudder. "Must have been an alcoholic."

"No, my dear. Try again." He gave Palmer a look to keep him quiet.

Abby took a closer look. "Okay, damage from medications?" Ducky nodded, pleased.

"How could you tell?" Palmer wanted to know. "How did you know it wasn't hepatitis?"

She shrugged. "I don't know that it isn't hepatitis, I'm just guessing that because the hepatic ducts are small and there aren't enough of them. A lot of medications can cause that."

"Vanishing bile duct syndrome," Palmer said, a smile of understanding on his face. "Good catch, Abby."

"Of course, that isn't what killed the boy," Ducky said to Abby, pointing to bullet wounds, one through the heart and one through the forehead.

"Do you think –" Abby's words were interrupted by the ringing of her phone. "Hello, Abby speaking.

"Hey, Abbs."

"Gibbs! Why are you calling me? You're supposed to be on your honeymoon."

"I called to tell everyone that Jenny had the baby, and I figured that if I told you, the rest would hear about it." She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"She what? It wasn't – it's two months early! Is the baby okay?"

"He's doing as well as can be expected. And Jen is recovering slowly; she had a C-section as well as some other surgery."

"Wow." By now, Ducky had removed his gloves and he took the phone when Abby handed it to him.

Abby found a chair and sat down, feeling weak. She couldn't believe it; why was all this bad stuff happening to them?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Ziva returned to the bullpen from autopsy, McGee was waiting eagerly. "Ziva, I found something on the loading dock camera. Actually, it's what I didn't find. Or I should say –"

"What is it, McGee?"

He found the remote and pointed it at the plasma screen. The first video showed a large truck backing up to the dock in such a way that when the driver got out his face was entirely shadowed. Next McGee moved to a camera in the back hall where the vending machines were. A man in a green jumpsuit was working with the machines, presumably stocking them. They could not be sure because his back was always to them. Finally, McGee showed Ziva the green blur on the video from the lab.

"He was clearly concealing his identity," Ziva mused. "Any eyewitnesses?"

"One, but she didn't look at him very carefully. Short with blonde hair. The main thing is, he wasn't the usual delivery person. She said she's sure of it."

Just then Tony called in to report on his visit to the prison. After they had all shared their findings, he said, "It seems the delivery man could be Mercer. Get fingerprints from every surface he may have touched. Ziva, have you interviewed the two security guys from last night?"

"Not yet, but I will." She went to the computer to pull up their personnel files.


	38. Chapter 38

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 38

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable, Bloodbath

"Mr. Harper, how long have you been a Security officer?"

"Twenty-two years. I was trained as an MP in the Marines, and when I left the Service due to a minor medical problem, I was offered the job of Security Officer at Quantico."

"What kind of medical problem?" Ziva asked.

Harper was clearly uncomfortable, but she persisted. Finally he said, "A bladder defect. I kept getting infections and they had to do surgery."

Ziva already knew this, of course; it was right there in his file. But her aim was to make sure he was who he said he was. She had already taken his fingerprints and sent them up to Jake, to be compared with the ones McGee found on the vending machine. Now she was questioning him, not just on the night before, but also on his background.

"How long have you been working here?"

"Almost nine years. I was at Diego Garcia for a short time, then moved to Pensacola. Stayed there 4 years then got transferred here."

She spent several more minutes questioning Harper, after which she felt reasonably certain he was telling the truth. His background check was clean; all that was left was to prove that his fingerprints did not match those of the "green blur." She was ready to question the second officer, Dodgson.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Jake was running the security officers' fingerprints, as well as the suspect's, through AFIS, but he didn't expect anything from the officers. After all, they had been thoroughly vetted before getting jobs in Security; if anything had come up, they would never have gotten past the front door.

However, he was not the type to leave any stone unturned.

He was taking prints from the phony bomb when his computer beeped, signifying a match on the fingerprints. To his surprise, the officer named Dodgson was identified as a man who had been sent to prison for assault seven years before. However, he had spent the last three years at a high-security mental hospital, and had been released only a few weeks before.

Almost immediately another match came up, not as good as the first, but still substantial. A partial pulled from the vending machine matched both Dodgson and the former inmate, at 70% accuracy. There had been some blurring, most likely caused by a thin latex glove.

Jake picked up the phone to call Tony, but at that moment Tony walked into the lab.

"I know who it is! It's Dodgson!" Jake pointed to the computer and the fingerprint matches.

Tony wasn't surprised to find out that Dodgson's print matched Mercer. He immediately called Ziva. "Have you talked to Dodgson yet?"

"No, I finished with Harper but I can't find Dodgson." Her voice sounded both embarrassed and worried.

"Didn't you lock him up?" Tony realized his voice was high with tension, and that he must calm down. "Call Security. We need to hold him; he's our guy."

"Will do."

"Dammit all!" Tony exclaimed. Then another realization hit him and he raced for the staircase leading down to autopsy. It seemed to take forever for him to get down the stairs and to the door. Through the glass he saw Abby, Ducky, and Palmer standing like statues, facing the wall he couldn't see. Obviously Mercer was in there, probably pointing a gun at them.

Faintly he could hear a voice penetrating the sound-proofing. "You can't make me believe this! How could you love him? He's _old_. He can't take care of you, but I can. Abby, please! Mawher told me all about you; I just want to keep you close to me and safe for the rest of your life! That's all."

Tony could see Ducky's lips moving but couldn't hear what he was saying. Stepping back, he called McGee to come down there. Ziva appeared just as he disconnected; fortunately she had taken the stairs as well, so there was no elevator ding to announce her.

"McGee's coming. I want you to go around to the other entrance. We'll try to wait for him, but if you believe the guy is about to shoot, go ahead and nab him."

She nodded, moving down the corridor swiftly but noiselessly.

Abby was sweating, but that was the only outwardly visible sign of the terror she was feeling. They had been caught completely off guard when this crazy guy who looked like one of their Security Officers had stormed into autopsy, brandishing his gun. Ducky tried to get in front of Abby as protection, but it became clear that Abby was what the man was seeking. He didn't really care about Ducky or Palmer; they were just annoying distractions that he would brush away like a fly.

His voice was paradoxically gentle at first, considering the way he was waving the gun around. He proclaimed his love, then tried to get her to say she loved him too, or at least to come closer and talk to him. She didn't move. She couldn't move.

That was when he began shouting, becoming more and more delirious. "I just want to keep you close to me and safe for the rest of your life! That's all."

Ducky couldn't keep quiet anymore. "By safe, you mean smothered! You're obsessed, man! If I allowed you to take Abby, you would never let her out of your sight."

"Shut up, old man!" Abby watched as he moved closer to Ducky, coming to a stop with the gun to Ducky's forehead.

She finally found her voice. "No!" she cried. Instinct drove her to kick at the gun, which went flying out of his hand and across the room.

At that moment Ziva and Tony charged in from the two entrances, guns pointed at the little man, who had also fallen backwards from the force of Abby's kick. "Don't move!" shouted Ziva. McGee followed them in, providing extra backup.

Abby felt a sudden dizzying wave of relief, then she realized that when she kicked at the gun she had also caught her fiancé on the nose. "Oh, Ducky, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed. "I bet that hurts like hell." She ran to get him some paper towels while Ziva, Tony & McGee handled Mercer.

Ducky's nose was bleeding and it did, in fact, hurt like hell, but nothing to approach a gunshot to the head – or even worse, a gunshot to Abby's head. He shuddered at the very thought.

Abby was crying. "Sweetheart, can you forgive me?" She dabbed at his nose with a paper towel.

"Of course I can, dearest. I might be dead if you had not done it," he reassured her while keeping his nose pinched. This caused his voice to sound funny, and she began to giggle and cry at the same time. The tension of the last few days finally began to dissipate as she hugged him tightly.

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Thirty minutes later, the stalker had been arrested, and Tony was returning to his desk to complete paperwork on the case. As he was sitting down, his phone rang. He didn't even stop to check the caller ID.

"Anthony DiNozzo, at your service," he answered. He was feeling very satisfied with himself.

"Tony, I'm surprised you haven't called."

"Boss? Why would I call? Besides, we've been a little busy here."

"Didn't Abby or Ducky tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Jenny had the baby, two months early."

"Oh!" Tony was taken aback. "Is she okay? Is the baby okay?"

"So far, yes on both counts." Gibbs paused for a moment. "What have you been busy with?"

"Well, boss, you're not going to believe this…"


	39. Chapter 39

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 39

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable, Bloodbath

"Are you sure that going to Vegas is okay with you, Ducky?"

He took her hand in his and smiled, then kissed her lips softly as the plane began its ascent from Dulles Airport. "Yes, dearest. I'm sure. I don't want to wait any longer to marry you."

Only a week had passed since the stalker was discovered, but it seemed much longer, because so much had changed. They didn't get past the terror overnight – for most of the week Abby had shown a distinct preference to be with Ducky at all times. It was clear she did not feel safe alone, or even with other people. And each of them had experienced more than one nightmare about the events. After a bad one they would hold each other tightly, trying to get past the shaking.

The Gibbs family was still gone and the Deputy Director, Leon Vance, had taken over temporarily. Jenny and Jasper were still in the hospital, with both making good progress. Naturally, everyone had taken a day or two to fly up to New York and visit them. Soon Jenny would be discharged, and if all went according to plan, Jasper would be transferred to the Pediatric ICU at Georgetown University Hospital.

About halfway through the flight, Abby fell asleep on Ducky's shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her, just above the cantaloupe-sized bump where their baby rested – although, at the moment, he seemed to be kicking hard enough to wake his mother. Ducky felt the prickles of moisture in his eyes, tears caused by the exquisite joy he felt in his heart when he held his Abigail.

She began to stir just before they reached the airport. "How long have I slept?" she asked, yawning and stretching. She was so glad that they had been able to get first class tickets, because her ankles tended to swell and in an economy seat she never could have stretched out her legs.

"Almost three hours, my dear. I'm glad you were able to rest." He chuckled. "Junior was practicing football. I don't know how you can sleep through it."

"You get used to it." She grinned mischievously. "It's too bad, though, that men can't experience it. If they did, I bet they would almost worship women."

"I worship you already, Abigail," he said softly.

Her whole body tingled at his words. "And I you, Donald. That's what makes it so wonderful that we are together."

Her use of his given name startled him; he was fairly certain she had never done so before. He turned towards her and caught her eye. "I liked that."

She looked puzzled, so he explained. "I like that you used my first name. I never liked people to use it because that is what Mother calls me, but I don't like the formality of 'Dr. Mallard' either. Therefore, I've always told people to call me Ducky. But coming from your sweet lips, Abigail…"

She smothered the rest of his sentence in a long, sensual kiss that drew the attention of nearby passengers, as well as one of the flight attendants. "Are you going to Vegas to be married?" she asked when they finally separated.

"Yes, we are. Do you have any recommendations?"

She thought for a moment. "Are you English?"

"A Scotsman, actually."

"Even better! There is a chapel where you can have a very traditional British wedding, and you can even rent kilts, wedding dresses, all the extras down to 'something borrowed, something blue.'"

A bell rang from somewhere in the cabin. "I have to answer that, but I'll be back."

Ducky gave Abby the lopsided half-smile she cherished so much. "So, my lotus blossom, what do you think?"

"You have to ask, Donald? Of course!" She answered his smile with a grin, and when the flight attendant returned she gave them a map to the chapel.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Everything happened quickly once they left the airport. The taxi driver knew the place as soon as they named it; after all, he had driven people around Las Vegas for the past 11 years. It took only ten minutes to reach the Queen Elizabeth Wedding Chapel.

Abby stepped out of the taxi and immediately her heart began to race. She had not expected to be nervous, but clearly she was mistaken. Taking deep breaths, she held his hand firmly for comfort.

He glanced at her and read the anxiety on her face. "We don't have to do this, Abby, if you'd rather not," he said gently.

She smiled. "Oh no, you're not getting out of this that easily, Donald Mallard!" They both chuckled. "I just have the jitters," she continued, "so let's get in there and do it!"

Less than fifteen minutes later, they stood together at the altar. "Dearly beloved…"

Ducky barely heard anything, barely saw anything other than his Abigail. He said "I do" and "I will" at the appropriate places, almost mechanically, but when time came to kiss his bride, he became fully aware of everything.

Carefully he lifted the veil from her face and kissed her quite chastely. He knew there would be time for more passionate kisses soon.

"I now present Dr. and Mrs. Donald Mallard!"

The few people in the chapel – volunteer witnesses, it appeared – clapped enthusiastically, and the bagpipes began to play again while they walked back down the aisle together.

Abby was in a daze as they changed clothes again and collected the video recording of the wedding. "Wow," she said when they stepped into another taxi.

"Yes?" Ducky sounded a bit absent-minded himself.

"Just wow," she whispered, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "So where are we staying?" Ducky hadn't let her hear his instructions to the driver.

"You'll see, my dear. We're almost there."

Abby watched avidly through the window until the taxi turned into the Bellagio parking lot. "This is where the fountains are, right?"

She had just finished her question when the magnificent and famous Bellagio fountains came into view. The intricate pattern of swirling water was fascinating. "They're beautiful!"

"It's even better at night." Ducky was pleased.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Abby was surprised again when they checked in privately in the Executive Lounge, then amazed when they walked into their suite. It was shaped like a crescent, with a living room and kitchen on one side, bedroom and bath on the other. The walls that formed the outside of the crescent were all glass.

Abby giggled at a sudden thought. "Hey, Ducky, how do you feel about having sex where everyone can see you?"

"It doesn't matter, because we're not going to. There are drapes, you know."

"Aw, come on! It would be something different. Kinda' kinky, you know? Besides, we're so high I don't think anyone could actually see us unless they were window-washers. And I bet the windows are mirrored on the outside."

He didn't answer, just walked towards her, his eyes beginning to catch fire with desire. He could see the sparks in hers as well. "Abigail," he said quietly, "do you trust me?"

"Implicitly, my husband."

He took her hand and led her slowly to the bedroom. "I want you to disrobe," he said, his voice growing husky, "and when you are finished I will put this over your face." He withdrew three strips of purple silk from his suitcase.

Abby shivered with anticipation, while at the same time warmth and desire moved to her center faster than ever before. She didn't speak, just undressed as quickly as possible.

Ducky tied one band of purple silk over her eyes, effectively blinding her. He led her over to the bed. "Wait." he commanded. She could hear sounds that told her he was getting undressed as well. The mental picture caused even more heat and wetness at her core.

He pulled the covers down even further. "Get on the bed, on your hands and knees. I'll guide you." In a minute she was in position, and he quickly tied her hands to the headboard.

She was so excited she could barely wait. She wiggled and swayed from side to side until she felt his strong hands firmly grasping her hips. She couldn't help allowing the plea to escape her, "Now, Ducky, please!"

He couldn't wait any longer either, and in the next moment he entered her with one long thrust. "Ah!" she cried out. "More!"

They found a rhythm that suited them both, and Ducky's thrusts became even more powerful. "Just… the right… spot," Abby panted. "Don't… stop."

"Hell would have to freeze over before I would stop," he said fervently. "Oh, Abigail. I'm afraid I won't last long."

As he finished saying that she fell over the edge herself, almost sobbing with the intensity of pleasure that electrified her entire body. Her walls closed in on him as he continued to push into her from behind, and the extra pressure was just what he needed. "Abby – Abby," he breathed. "Oh, God, Abby."

She fell into another orgasm, even stronger than the one before, and this time she screamed his name.

When her breathing had slowed, she almost fell flat on the bed, but he pushed her onto her side instead. For awhile they laid on their sides, both totally spent.

Ducky finally recovered enough to slide out of her and turn to his back. "Abigail, that was heavenly."

For a moment she didn't answer, but then she said, "Untie me please?"

"My goodness, I forgot, didn't I? I'm very sorry my dear; I hope you weren't in a terribly uncomfortable position." He finished releasing her wrists, and she pulled off the blindfold with a smile.

"No, dearest, it was perfect." She kissed him lightly, then snuggled up beside him the way she liked the best: head on his shoulder, arm wrapped across his body, and knees bent with one leg across his legs. "You're the best."

"No, Abby, you are." He heard a tiny snort at the end of the sentence and knew she was asleep. With a satisfied smile, he allowed himself to relax completely.


	40. Chapter 40

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 40

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable, Bloodbath

Ziva David walked into the bullpen with a clear expression of anger on her face and the words "Such an idiot!"

Tony glanced up then back to his computer screen, but on second thought he looked up at Ziva again. "Who?"

"You know who, Tony! That ignoramus forensic scientist that we're stuck with until Abby's back. Why couldn't we have Jake back? At least he knew what he was doing."

Without looking up, McGee said, "He had a family emergency."

"I know that, McGee," she said in exasperation. Placing her head in her hands, she sighed. "It is just wrong around here when they are all gone."

Tony stood up and walked to her desk. "Would you like a hug, Zi?" he asked quietly, his arms open wide.

McGee looked up just in time to see Ziva move into Tony's arms, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Close your mouth, Probie," Tony said without looking.

"Oh – I – I'm sorry." He quickly returned to his work, but surreptitiously gazed at the unexpected sight when he knew they weren't looking.

The elevator announced an arrival with a ding, but no one noticed who it was until McGee happened to glance up just as the person cleared Ziva's desk. He jumped to his feet. "Boss! What are you doing here?"

Gibbs used both hands to give Ziva and Tony headslaps.

"Hey!" Tony exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head. "You never headslapped Abby for hugging people!"

"Oh, is that what it was?" Gibbs was fighting a smile. "I thought it was rule 12 being broken."

"Well – " Tony began, trying to think of some excuse.

"We have been seeing each other," Ziva spoke frankly. Tony groaned.

"Both of you, in my office, now."

Reluctantly they followed him to the elevator, and as soon as it started to move, he hit the stop button. "Now, tell me what this is."

"I told you, Gibbs. Tony and I are dating." Ziva spoke the words calmly, as if she expected nothing but approval.

Tony, however, couldn't look Gibbs in the eye. "Sorry, boss."

"Sorry?" Gibbs and Ziva said together.

"Why are you sorry, Tony? Do you honestly think Gibbs is going to chastise us, under the circumstances?"

"Yeah, do you?" added Gibbs.

"But –" Tony began.

"I'd be very hypocritical if I did," Gibbs admitted. "I married the Director of NCIS. Our ME and our forensic scientist are married, too."

This was news to the special agents. "What? When?" demanded Tony.

"Over the weekend. Vegas. They promised to show the video." Gibbs couldn't help but look rather smug.

"Well," Tony said, looking as though he needed to sit down. Then he remembered why they were in the elevator. "So you're really okay with us, Boss?"

Gibbs smiled. "Yeah, I'm gonna cut you some slack, as long as –"

" – it doesn't interfere with our work," they finished. "It won't," continued Ziva.

"After all, we've been dating for three months," Tony admitted.

"And you thought I didn't know that?" Gibbs smirked.

Ziva turned to Tony. "Pay up. I told you he knew."

Instead, Tony restarted the elevator. "I should have known better than to bet with you, Ziva." But his face held a smile, and he was terribly happy that finally things were working out for everyone.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Gibbs' team, along with most of the other people at NCIS, gave Abby & Ducky a welcome home (and congratulations!) party when they returned. They both enjoyed the delightful decorations and gifts, and took lots of pictures. Everyone wanted to see the recording of the wedding, of course, and they cheered when the two were officially married.

Abby, who loved parties of all sorts, liked this one especially well, but it tired her out. Ducky had begun to notice that she tired more quickly than usual, and kept a closer eye on her in case any difficulties developed.

Five weeks later she went back on bed rest, at the beginning of her last trimester. In the meantime, Jenny was released from the hospital and Jasper was transferred to a DC hospital, just as they had planned. In fact, he was doing so well that before the 5 weeks were up he had been released with just a monitor to check his breathing.

Before Abby returned to lying in bed most of the day, she asked for and received a communications set up that would allow her to call in to NCIS at any time. Usually she contacted Ducky in the morgue, but she could also sit in on case discussions and give ideas and opinions. This made it much easier for her to accept the frustration of being at home.

Ducky had started taking sign language lessons and was drilled by Abby between classes, so that he would get enough practice to learn it thoroughly. As the due date came closer, both parents found themselves "nesting" like crazy – Abby spent hours poring over online catalogs of baby stuff. Of course it had to be at least somewhat Goth. She looked and looked, but still favored the sugar skulls bedding set that she had mentioned to Ducky the day of the pipe "bomb." Abby ordered accessories over the Internet, while Ducky bought most of the furniture at nearby stores. The baby would sleep in their room at first, so midnight feedings would be a bit easier.

Finally, only six days were left, and Abby was becoming irritable with the physical discomforts, and annoyed with having to wait. "Ducky, I am sick of this," she said emphatically as they prepared to sleep.

"I don't blame you, my dear. Would you like me to rub your back?"

"Ah, that would be heavenly!"

It wasn't easy to massage her sore muscles while she lay on her side, but Ducky could tell that she was enjoying it by her soft sighs and moans. "Better, dearest?"

"Much." For several minutes she was very quiet and hardly moved, so he thought she must be asleep.

"I've been having contractions all day," she admitted suddenly.

His heart jumped. "What kind of contractions?"

"They're different from the ones I've had before."

"In what way?" He tried to keep his voice calm, although inside he felt excited.

"Stronger, and lasted longer."

He sat up. "How far apart?"

She paused, knowing that he would scold her when she told him. "Five minutes."

She was right! Ducky jumped out of bed and turned the light on. "Abby, we need to go to the hospital right now! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did," she replied, struggling to stand up.

"I mean why didn't you tell me earlier?" He took her bag out of the closet. "Never mind; let's go!"

Abby couldn't hold back a smirk as she donned her coat and followed him down the stairs. Even Ducky was predictable at times.

A/N: I've made several scrapbook-type pages with pictures of Abby & Ducky. You can see them (and download, if you wish) at lunarmothdesigns (dot) wordpress (dot) com.


	41. Chapter 41

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 41

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable, Bloodbath

The drive to the hospital took less than thirty minutes, but Ducky could tell that the contractions were getting stronger and closer together as his wife could not endure them quietly any longer.

"Don't hold back, my love," he told her. "Remember what they said in the class – holding back pain will only make it worse."

As if she had been freed by his words, Abby cried out, her knuckles white against the dashboard of the car. "Breath deeply," he added. "It will help relax the rest of your body."

When the pain receded she gulped air. "Thanks for the reminders, sweetheart," she sighed. Soon the next contraction came and she groaned, trying to breathe and relax and do everything she had been taught.

"We'll be there in just a few minutes," he said soothingly. But she grabbed his arm in a death grip as another contraction grew. He managed to navigate the car one-handed through the remaining blocks, then turned into the Labor and Delivery entrance.

The nurse at the door took one look at Abby and called for a gurney. Abby was panting by this time so the nurse asked, "Do you want to push?"

Abby nodded, and Ducky's face showed his alarm. The nurse must have noticed it because she smiled at him at said, "It's all right. You got her here just in time."

He followed Abby as she was taken to the delivery room, and stood beside her, holding her hand, while she worked to push their baby out. Less than fifteen minutes later, he heard the sound they had been waiting for.

Donald Ian Mallard, Jr. gave his first cry, and Ducky found that his eyes were filled with tears. He leaned over and kissed Abby's face. "Abigail, he's here. We did it," he whispered.

She had to keep pushing a little bit longer to complete the birth, but she smiled up at him, her face radiant.

"Would you like to cut the cord?" the doctor asked.

Ducky glanced at Abby, unsure about letting go of her hand. She answered by letting go herself, absolute trust showing in her eyes.

When he saw their baby, he almost couldn't take his eyes away long enough to actually cut the cord. But finally he did, and he returned to Abby, watching as their son was cleaned, weighed, and wrapped in a soft blanket.

Then the nurse carried him to Ducky. "Would you like to hold him?"

"Yes," he replied, swallowing hard. "Yes, of course." He took hold of the small, compact bundle and carefully turned toward Abby. They both had tears running down their cheeks while they hugged each other, holding Donny between them.

Thinking of the middle name Ian, he softly said, "God is indeed gracious."

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The next morning, Ducky asked their home nurse to bring his mother to the hospital to see her grandchild. He hoped she would be lucid enough to understand. When she arrived, Abby was feeding Donny, and apparently Mrs. Mallard comprehended what had happened.

"Is he – is he ours, Donald?" she asked, awe-struck.

"Yes, Mother. He is your grandson."

Abby smiled at Victoria, who reached tentatively to touch Donny's head gently. The baby opened his eyes and looked up at her, causing tears to form in her eyes. She stepped back and almost fell, but Ducky held her up.

"You've done well," she said. Her eyes began to glaze over and she became lost in the memory of _her_ son's birth, so many years ago.

Her nurse took her from Ducky's arms. "I'll take her now… Ducky," she replied (Roberta always felt there was something wrong about calling her employer by his nickname, but he wouldn't allow her to call him anything else). They left, a look of rapture still on Victoria's face.

Shortly afterward, Tony, Ziva, and McGee arrived to pay their respects to the new baby. "He's great, Abby!" Tony said as he held the tiny infant with complete confidence. "A perfect little Duckling."

"Yes, he is perfect," Ducky agreed.

"And he would know; he's counted Donny's fingers and toes at least 8 times," Abby teased.

"Did you have him circumcised?"

"Tony!" cried Abby and Ziva, incensed.

"I'm just curious!" Tony protested.

"Not yet, but he will be," Ducky replied with a smile. "Many disagree, but I think it helps with cleanliness."

The two women just rolled their eyes as if to say, 'Men _will _talk about these things.'

"Congratulations to both of you," Ziva said.

McGee had not spoken yet, but when Abby looked at him, he did his best. "Oh. He's – wow. I haven't been around babies much so I don't really know what to say."

"Perfectly all right, Timothy. What you've said is enough," Ducky reassured him, with a pat on his shoulder.

They continued to talk, mostly about cases, until the baby grew restless, squirming about in the blanket that swaddled him. Then Donny began to cry, and all three visitors began to look rather uncomfortable. "Is he hungry? Should we leave?" asked McGee. He had been told that Abby was breast-feeding, and wasn't sure that he was ready to see that.

She tried not to smile at his discomfiture. "Maybe, but I just fed him not long before you got here. Maybe he needs a diaper change."

That produced even more consternation, so Ducky decided to let them off the hook. "Thank you very much for visiting," he said kindly.

"We'll come back tomorrow," Tony said, relieved.

"Great! See you then!" replied Abby. After they were gone, she grinned at her husband. "You should have made them miserable a bit longer, Donald."

"Abigail! That would have been unkind!" He pretended to be scandalized by the mere suggestion, but he couldn't maintain it long, and soon he was half-smiling. "Yes, I definitely should have."


	42. Chapter 42

What Mrs. Mallard Said - 42

Author: GataChica

Rating: M

Warnings: sexual situations

Spoilers: Untouchable, Bloodbath

The next morning, Abby and Donny were released from the hospital. In the day and a half since they arrived, Abby had collected many flowers, candy bouquets, and other gifts. McGee had given them a baby book with plenty of room for photos; Ducky had taken at least 75 in the last 24 hours. But Abby didn't mind, and neither did Donny.

They tucked him into his car seat – which seemed to swallow his tiny form – then Abby buckled up beside him for the 30 minute trip home. She didn't talk much and neither did Ducky. They both were basking in the warmth of having a new addition to their family.

Once they had arrived home and unloaded the car, Abby was tired, so she fed Donny then they both fell asleep.

Ducky sat in the bedroom chair for hours, watching them sleep. He didn't recall ever being this happy in his entire life. Looking back, he could honestly say he'd had a good, exciting life, but in some strange way he knew his life hadn't _really_ started until he met his Abigail.

He was standing by the crib, staring at his son – it still had not sunk in completely that he was a father now.

"He's adorable, isn't he?" Abby's languid voice startled him and he turned towards her, leaning over to kiss her.

He couldn't answer for several moments, because he was too overcome with emotion. Finally he said, "He certainly is, and so are you, dearest."

She smiled. "I'm so glad for what your mother said. It was embarrassing at the time, but all this might not have happened if she hadn't spoken up." She took his left hand in hers.

"Yes, that's true. I would never have been able to tell you how I felt. It had to come from you first."

She looked at him with a puzzled frown. "Really, Ducky? Why?"

He chuckled. "My dear, I was deathly afraid you'd reject me. What reason did I have to think differently? You were always sweet to me, but I didn't think you could have any real interest, not at your age."

"Yes, the age thing was a big obstacle, wasn't it? Thank goodness we both got past that quickly." She grinned. "I wonder when we can be _intimate_ again?"

"Not soon enough," he replied, returning her smile and kissing her hand.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Donny was taken for his first visit to his pediatrician when he was a week old, and just afterwards they had an appointment for his hearing test. Fortunately, he was hungry, so Abby fed him and once he was asleep, the audiologist attached the electrodes to the back of his head then placed the newborn-sized headphones over his ears. He stirred a bit but Abby had him swaddled in a blanket, and he went right back to sleep.

Thirty minutes later the test was complete. They waited another twenty for the audiologist to report back the results of the test.

"As you expected," she said, "he has a severe to profound hearing loss in his right ear and moderate to profound in his left ear."

Abby nodded and remained calm, even though she'd indulged in a slight hope that he might not be deaf after all, and that hope was now extinguished. "So we'll need to get hearing aids soon?"

"I'd recommend that you come back in three weeks and we'll fit him for hearing aids then," the audiologist replied.

"What about a cochlear implant?" asked Ducky.

"We have to try him with amplification first. If he doesn't respond, he may be a candidate for an implant once he is a year old. But that's a big step, since it involves invasive surgery."

Ducky nodded; the audiologist's answer was the same as what he had read on the Internet. "Thank you, Ms. Townsend."

"I have some pamphlets if you'd like to read them," she offered.

Abby quickly looked through them. None of them covered a topic with which she was not familiar. "Thank you, but save them for another client," she said with a smile.

"Oh yes – I'm sorry, I forgot that you have Deaf parents. And you both sign?"

"Yes," Ducky replied, "but Abby has signed all her life, while I am a late-bloomer." He sighed.

Abby signed to him, 'Don't insult yourself!'

Automatically he replied, 'Trying to be accurate.'

Ms. Townsend laughed. "For a late-bloomer, you're doing well. Stop at the front desk and make an appointment for 3 weeks. I'll see you then."

Ducky took Donny in his arms, and Abby smiled at them while she made the appointment.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Both Ducky and Abby took family leave for six weeks so that all three of them could develop a routine. When they returned to work, Donny was placed in day care at the Deaf Center. Closed-circuit TV cameras in the rooms allowed them to watch him over the Internet any time they wanted to.

They both cut down on their hours so that they could spend more time with their son. Instead of working 36 hour shifts, Abby learned to stop at 8-10 hours even if the work _wasn't_ finished. It was easier than she expected; she found herself missing Donny all the time.

One day Ducky surprised her at the lab with a huge bouquet of black roses. Delighted, she asked, "What's this for? It's not my birthday. Is it some special day I've overlooked?"

"Think about what we were doing a year ago."

She pondered for a moment, then it came to her. "Oh! That was when we were looking for the mole at the Pentagon!"

"Yes, dearest. It's been a year since…"

She didn't let him finish, just wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, causing him to almost drop the vase of flowers. He moved a few inches to his left, taking her with him, and set it down on a counter. Then he kissed her, a long, sensuous kiss that reflected complete familiarity and comfort with each other.

Finally they broke apart and he whispered, "Happy Anniversary, dear Abigail."

end


End file.
